FML!!! (A Denki Angst Fic 🥱) (Re-Write)

Chapter 3

   The class drones on. Thank god Mina hadn't seen Aizawa put down the note, by then she had stopped bothering me in fear of getting told off. I felt my heart beating out of my chest. What was gonna happen? Was he gonna tell me off for my bad grades? For being late? Did he find out about.. my 'home situation'? Ughhh, this was so confusing! Why did he have to do it 39 minutes into this 90 minute class. And why did he have to curl up in the corner of the class and sleep! That doesn't help! Either way, the class was nearing its end, Aizawa waking up and walking around to collect these.. worksheets. The whole time I was just sitting there, listening to music. I finished the work pretty quickly, but that just left more room to worry about Aizawas.. note. I kept glancing at it. 'I have to talk with you' my ass! If this wasn't hell, I don't know what is. Well.., I do.. eh, you know what I mean. For most of the class I slept.. well, tried to, just thinking with my head down.
The bell rang, kids standing and going to take their lunch break. My head shot up. God that bell scared me. The dreaded time.., Aizawa would talk to me. I saw him sat at his desk, staring at me through the crowd of kids exiting. I started to slowly pack my things, hoping my friends would just walk out and leave me be.
"Hurry up, Pikachu!" I heard Bakugou yell. I looked at my group of friends. I loved them but— why now?
"I'll catch up with you guys, I just have a question for Aizawa!" I yelled back. I watched as Bakugou shrugged, walking away. Mina was skeptical. Maybe she did see the post-it and just.. said nothing. Eh, at least they were out of my hair. I slung my backpack around my shoulder, heart pounding. Was this good news? Bad news? Why did he do this to me!!
"You uh.. wanted to talk to me?" I asked, standing at the foot of his desk. He stared up at me, eyes tired and bored as they always looked.
"Denki... I've realized you've been coming in late a lot more recently." Fuuuuck dude. My mind scrambled with thoughts and excuses.., but he opened his mouth, clearly calculated words tumbling out.
"Is everything alright? At home.. in your.. personal life..?" He questioned me. I felt my stomach drop down to the earths core. Intense up, which he clearly noticed. I cleared my throat.
"Yeah yeah, sorry it's just— I recently moved a little farther from school, and since my parents prefer me staying at their house.. y'know, im still trying to gete used to waking up earlier" I excused, tripping over my words at some points. It was a good enough excuse, right?
"Oh.. okay. I'll.. email your parents about it. Just to make sure there's no.. funny business going on." He trailed off at certain parts of his sentence, clearly trying to think of how to phrase things. Never mind that, what. Email my parents.. he's kidding right? I'd be in a hospital for 5 days! Well, not really, but it would feel like it! Ughhhghhfgd.. my parents think I've been showing up on time! What'll they do if they find out I'm not! Considering what they already do when I show up 5 minutes late to home, it'll be a lot worse. I'd come in an hour late on some days. I can't let anyone know. I think he saw my expression drop and my fists ball up. I dug my nails into my skin, as if telling myself to stop being so obvious.
"No no no- it's fine- they uh.. they already know! Haha.. yeah.., they know!" I struck a very forced, very nervous smile. He eyed me, staring at me through narrowed eyes.
"Okay.. now I'm definitely calling them. CALLING!? Oh hell no. I had to get him off of this. He looked pretty sure though. What do I tell him.. what do I say, what do I do. I felt my heart beat up, pounding.
"I.. youu.. you can't! They'll— they.. have.. lllost their phone! No— they- they'd rather prefer you didn't call, they're very busy at home.." God, I sounded like a train wreck, stuttering and trailing off between my words, clearly starting up a sweat. I was so.. terrified? I guess? I could already imagine walking in tomorrow, pounds of foundation and concealer that would probably put me in debt on my face and arms, limping with bandages. Either that or I wouldn't go, which would probably raise his suspicions.
"...they lost their phone? They're too.. busy?" He looked up at me through hooded, tired eyes. He didn't believe a word I said.
"Yeah.. okay. I know your parents Kaminari, they can pick up a call for them. I'm calling them, end of story." Fuck. Mega fuck. Okay.. so what do I do now? Just wait for my demise? Run away? Cut off everyone I know and run away!? I think he saw me panicking. Tears glazed over my eyes. God I was such a crybaby. In my panicked thinking, fiddling with the bottom of my vest, he spoke up.
"Why don't you want me calling your parents, Kaminari?" He asked, rolling his chair forward, now fully sitting at his desk, leaning up and forward, hands folded together. God.., I was in for a treat.
"Uh.. I.." I stuttered out nothing. I could answer the question in a heartbeat. I should answer it. Truthfully. But I know the hell my family will reign in me, and I've felt it before. I know it all too well and I'm not willing to go through any of that again.
"Is everything okay at home?" I stood still, breathing heavy, eyes wide with fear. The slippered foot that swung at me just this morning flashed through my mind. No, everything wasn't okay at home. But could I say that? I mean.. yeah, but I wouldn't. I could.. but I won't. I shouldn't.
"Yeah yeah.. just-" He cut me off quickly.
"Listen, Kaminari, you can be honest with me. You can trust me." I felt my heart sink, my body feeling hollow, but my mind being so full. Like just my thoughts made it weigh a hundred pounds. That sour feeling of wanting to cry filled my face, feeling tears begging to be let out. Why was I crying!? I mean, I have always hated confrontation. Whenever I was a little kid, I would always cry whenever my parents confronted me. Whether it was a bad grade, if I'd cleaned my room, if it was me who didn't flush the toilet. But now that I don't have that.. privilege, of my wrong-doings being brushed aside, it would feel like my childhood all over again. I guess I was scared. Those missed feelings of love, those desperate apologies in fear they would punish me like my classmates. But now I knew they would do a lot worse. Maybe I subconsciously thought Aizawa would treat me the way my parents did. I know he wouldn't. It was just that gnawing voice in the back of my mind. My thoughts felt like they were crumbled down, mixed with water, and squeezed of its essence and slowly poured as the most painful eye drops into my eyes. But I couldn't cry. My life depended on this. I blinked back tears that fought to escape.
"Um.." I swallowed hard "No.., no everything's okay" I smiled, looking down at the floor anxiously. What was I doing!? Going out and promoting it!? Ugdhhrhrh.. I'm done for. I felt the tears that just wouldn't give up start to prick at my eyes. If he didn't notice that I was on the verge of tears before, he sure did now.
"I.. I have to go" I mumbled, quickly turning on my heel to the door and speeding out. I heard him call after me, his chair rolling back as he, probably, stood up. I didn't look back, making my way to that same desolate bathroom I had before. I heard my sneakers squeak down the now empty hallways, everyone in class or in the cafeteria. My broken, beaten sneakers that I'd had for years, starting to feel too tight as u grew. I continued to run in them, knowing that this was the only pair I'd be able to get my hands on for awhile.

I swung the door open, slamming it behind me. I stood against the door for a second, panting. I had ran half the way here, of course I'd be out of breath. I felt the warm tears stream down my cheek as he slid down the door, putting my head in my hands, trying to wipe the tears. I sobbed quietly into my arm. Why. Why was I crying? Why wouldn't I stop!? I hated this.. so much. I just wanted to go. Go anywhere else. Sit on a mountain that only I can scale and cry my heart out. I felt my sobbing grow louder, small hiccups and cries slipping out, tears sinking into the grey sea of my sweater. It stained, very obviously. Just like the blood from my bleeding nose. I pulled out the blood-soaked tissue from my nose, tossing it into a nearby trash can. Well- tried to, I missed. I sniffled, blood starting to trickle down along with my tears. I'd just practically sold myself out. I couldn't hold back my cries, no matter how hard I tried. My cheap drugstore makeup that still felt like a fortune started to mix in with my tears as they ran down. A bit of my stinging bruise was noticeable from the hard slap I was dealt earlier peeking through. I heard a stall door creek open. Oh my fucking god. My head snapped upwards, staring at the cracked open stall. There he was. Familiar ashy purple hair, tired brown eyes, and messily put together uniform staring dead at me. That same mystery boy watching me cry.
Fuck my life.

———

A/N

I hope you're noticing a little pattern here hehehe
ANYWAYS
I've written 3 whole chapter, 1500 words +
Please say this makes up for that absolute car crash of a other fanfic
Thanks for watching, make sure to SLAM that like button and SMASH that subscribe button, hit that bell, and as always, stay safe gamers 😝

Word count: 1765