Not Quite as Planned

My Highschool Days

*trigger warning: mentions of suicide, bullying, eating disorders, body issues, and self harm*
   A couple days later Hitoshi and I were in my room after I had gotten off of my shift at the coffee shop. Hitoshi was holding me close as he messed with my hair, my hands wrapped around his waist. "Hey Katsuki?" Hitoshi asked out of nowhere.
   I hummed in response, wanting to know what was bothering him. Hitoshi had been off ever since we got back from his parents' house. His mind always seemed to be elsewhere but I didn't want to ask him about it.
   I looked up with curious eyes as Hitoshi took a deep breath and looked down at me, "Remember the other night at my parents'? When I told you I'd talk to you later about something?" Hitoshi asked. I nodded in response and waited for him to continue. "I've been thinking about it and I think that I'm ready to talk to you about it. It's better you know about it now before you find out on your own anyway."
   I moved so the I was sitting up, grabbing Hitoshi's hands and pulling him up with me. "If you're ready then I'm here to listen. Take your time." I replied, a soft smile on my face.
   Hitoshi returned my smile then thought for a moment before starting. "Well, remember what my parents told you about when I was a kid? I was always cheerful and happy, always willing to do anything to make them laugh or notice me. I did often pull a lot of shit like they told you in order to get their attention aswell.
That was because back before they adopted me I was in an orphanage because my birth parents abandoned me there when I was a baby. Growing up there I was bullied a lot and all of the other kids would make my life a living hell by making me take all of the blame for whatever it is they did wrong or by forcing me to piss off the workers.
That's the main reason why I was so happy when my dads adopted me, because I felt that all of the shit I went through was finally over. And it was over, at least until I got to high school.
   Things started out perfectly normal for about a year until some jock decided to make me his target. Every single day he would bully me and make fun of me for every little thing that he found to be full of flaws. The biggest things he hated were my weight and eyebags. I've always been underweight, when I was in the orphanage I was scared to eat too much because I'd get yelled at all the time if I did so. That habit stuck with me and I haven't been able to shake it just yet. I have eyebags all the time because I have pretty bad insomnia, I've had that since I was really young.
Anyway, the bullying ended up getting to the point that he'd shove me into lockers and beat the literal shit out of me every single day just for his and his friends' pleasure. I'd go home every single day and put on a happy face for my dads because I didn't want them to worry about me too much. I was actually able to manage this all for quite a while. Then when sophomore year came around things got worse.
   Sophomore year that one guy managed to turn the entire school against me. It was no longer him and his idiot friends, it was everybody. I didn't have a singular person on my side. It got to the point that they actually managed to make me hate myself and think that I was the one that caused all of this to happen. Because of this I had developed really bad depression and became suicidal. It didn't help that I had undiagnosed bipolar disorder.
   Every single day I'd get home from school and I- I would cut my arms until they were completely covered, just because it made me feel better. I don't know how I did this but I managed to hide it from my dads. Hell, maybe they knew what I was doing all along but were too scared to bring it up. I hid it until I made my first attempt half way through the school year and was sent to the hospital.
   My memory gets really foggy after my first attempt if we're being honest, but from what my dads tell me I had a lot more attempts after that and I was in the hospital more than I was in school my junior year. It got to the point that they couldn't handle finding me in my room half dead anymore so they sent me to a psyche ward in hopes to help me. If we're being honest? I think that decision is what helped me.
   I'm not sure exactly what I did when I was there but they discharged me a few months after I was admitted and I don't think I've attempted since. I still get really bad breakdowns and still have urges, but I'm a lot better than I was back then. The only reason I didn't get held back at all is because my dads pulled a couple strings with the school.
   I came here after I graduated because my dads worked here and I knew that I'd have the extra support. I also have meds that I have to take now so I don't go bat-shit crazy out of nowhere." Hitoshi stopped and looked my face over, "I- Sorry, this is probably a lot. I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you." Hitoshi said, moving his thumbs to my eyes and wiping away the tears that I didn't realize started falling down my face.
   I shook my head and threw myself at Hitoshi, wrapping my arms around him tightly, "Don't apologize, please. I'm happy that you trust me enough to talk about this with me. I love you, so so much. I'm proud of you for being strong and making it through all of that." I replied, moving my hands to Hitoshi's cheeks. "You're not alone anymore. You'll never be alone again."
   At that moment Hitoshi finally broke and started crying. He carefully placed his arms around me and burried his head into the crook of my neck. "I don't deserve you. Thank you." Hitoshi managed to say in between sobs. I held onto Hitoshi until he stopped crying, though even then I didn't completely let him go. Throughout the rest of the day in some way I was holding onto Hitoshi, wanting to make sure he knew that I was there for him. Making sure he knew that I'd never let him go and that he'd never have to suffer alone. Not anymore.