I wake up early in the morning, exhausted. I managed to drag myself to my room, but I wasn't able to change out of my uniform, or even pull myself up onto my bed. I carefully move to unbutton my uniform shirt to assess the damage. My entire left side and stomach are covered in bruises. I got off lucky this time, however. I carefully stand, using my dresser to support myself, and carefully walk to the attached bathroom to see what his punch did. I notice I'm favoring my right leg, and I'll need to assess my engine.
It takes me a good ten minutes to make it into my bathroom and turn on the light. I use the sink's counter to support myself without putting pressure on my abdomen or ribs. I see the left side of my face is almost completely bruised over. My eye is blackened and blood shot, my cheek has a fair bit of discoloration, and some of it even translates over to my right side. I guess getting hit in the face by a former Pro, it makes sense. I carefully undress and look at my engine, luckily I don't see any serious damage, and it'll be fine, though it's pretty bruised up. I turn the shower on as hot as it will go, hopefully it'll help the pain.
After showering I carefully make my way to my room to see a text message from Kirishima, asking if we can talk. He's been having a rough time with his depression lately, and has been reaching out to me for help. I'm glad he's seeking help, I really am, but I'm so drained. I text him back that he can call whenever, within the minute he's calling me.
"Good morning, Kirishima. Did you not sleep again last night?" I've carefully trained my voice for situations such as this.
"I slept a little bit, but I've been up since around 3am." He sounds absolutely exhausted. We talk for about an hour, I let him vent and I offer advise when warranted. After ending the call with him, I make my way downstairs. Judging by the shouting and sounds of glass breaking, it's going to be a very long weekend.
Monday morning finally rolls around and I drag myself off of my floor. I realize I'll be late if I don't leave within a few minutes, and, as quickly as my injured body can, I get dressed and assess this weekend's damage to my body. New bleeding whelps down my back that have now scabbed over, bruises covering my back, sides, stomach, and legs, though I forget about the one on my face.
Leaving the house as silently as possible, I make my way to the train station, the stairs hurt, but they're manageable. I hear whispers and feel staring eyes, but I figure it's because I'm an Iida. Boarding the train I struggle not to cry out in pain at every bump and jostle.
As I walk up to the front gate of U.A I see my class gathered on the lawn of the school, joking around and laughing. I need to sit down, I haven't eaten at all this weekend, and I quickly make my way to the class room. However, I wasn't counting on Bakugo being in there, talking to Aizawa. I ignore them, as it's not my conversation, and make my way to my seat.
"Hey!" The sharp harsh tone catches me off guard, though it's only Bakugo, and I find myself flinching. "What..." He trails off. The room is spinning, I can't breathe. I vaguely hear the class room door open, and somebody gasp. That's when I remember the black eye and bruised cheek.
"Iida, man, I need you to look at me." It's Bakugo, no mistaking it, but his voice is softer. He reaches towards me, probably to put a reassuring hand on my arm, but in my state of hunger and panic, I simply flinch away. All sembelence of control and preparedness goes out the window. I slowly look up at Bakugo, to see Mr. Aizawa and Midoriya behind him, all three look concerned. Huh, concern, that's not a look I thought I'd ever see on Bakugo. It softens his features, he actually looks kinda nice. I see they're trying to speak to me, I can't hear them. Between the damage to my ear from the punch and the panic that has long set into my bones, I can't make out a thing they're saying. I see black spots in the corners of my vision, I'm going to pass out? I never pass out. The last thing I see is a very scared Bakugo and Midoriya, calling out my name and attempting to catch me.
A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for reading my second chapter! I'm sorry for the angst T_T! I don't know why, I just had a need for some Iida angst, and decided to do it! Let me know how you like it! Love yall -Author
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FanfictionTenya Iida, class rep, strict, some would even call him a kill-joy. He seems so well put together, so organized, so dependable. He's there when anyone, in his class or another, needs a shoulder to cry on. But who fixes the broken? Who heals the heal...
