Consuming Voices

XII

I go to stand up and rush to the bathroom but-...

"Alright everyone in there seat, time for registration"

3rd person (*T^T)

"Aoyama?"

"Qui i am here."

"Ashido?"

"Here!"

"Asui?"

"Here..."

"Bakugou?"
...
"Bakugou?"

A noticeable huff came from Aizawa's mouth.

"Bakugou!"

A visibly nervous Bakugou looked up, blinking excessively.

"H-here"

"Right, Hagakure?"

The sound of the register faded into silence for the Blonde, his hands shook in his lap, blood leaking between his fingers which pressed down firmly on the wound he had inflicted onto himself. His breaths short and shallow. A few minutes had passed into the lesson and it was student work, the rest of the class working on the worksheets chatting about the work and about things not related at all. The blonde had gotten no work done, both his hands were too bloody to take out from under the desk but they were also shaking uncontrollably definitely not able to write with. Nobody was paying any attention to Bakugou so he took out his hand from his others sleeve. He used the cuff to cover his hand and raised it ever so slightly to catch the attention of the teacher. Aizawa walks over and leans over Bakugou's desk.

"Is there something you need... you haven't done any work"

"May i go to the bathroom"

The blonde says barely above a whisper. A flicker of concern glosses over Aizawa's eyes seeing Bakugou like this was odd to say the least.

"Yes, but when you come back i need this work done or else there will be consequences."

Aizawa shuffles back to the teacher desk and slouches going in and out of sleep. Bakugou hurridly covers his wound with his bloody hand, head down shoulders slumped and practically bolts out of the classroom. Going mostly unnoticed except for a couple glances up at the movement infront of them just to brush it off instantly and continue on.

Darting to the bathroom he pushes the door open with his shoulder and runs to open a stall and lock it. Hastily, the boy pulls up his sleeve and there was blood everywhere, all over his arm, all over his hands, all over his grey blazer sleeves even on his navy trousers.

"Fuck..."

he whispers to himself, when he darted out of the class he hid his arm so nobody really saw the blood on his blazer but from how much there was it's obvious that sooner rather than later alot of people will see. The trousers not so much, they were already very dark and barely showed up, but the blazer was a light grey, pretty much the whole forearm of it was prominently covered with dark red almost brownish black. Its not like he could wash it out plus it was still bleeding, it was really fucking deep. It for sure was not the usual trickle or pool of blood it was a fucking waterfall at this point and it showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

Snap

The panic finally sank in. Theres no good outcome. Theres no good choice for him to make. He couldn't go back to class, everyone will see his bloodied sleeve. He couldn't go to recovery girl, she'll see where the wound came from and everyone would know people would try and "fix" him. He couldn't go back to the dorms they'd call his parents, that was the worst option. He couldn't stay in this toilet stall all day, a teacher would eventually come and find him. So what the fuck could he do.

Drip

Cold sweat dripped down his forehead as drops of blood leaked through the crevices of his palm from the literal pool of blood that had accumulated in it. His breath quickened, his vision blurred. He had lost all feeling in his hand, even with that the boy tried to pull toilet paper to hopefully slow the bleeding. After fumbling with the toilet paper dispenser for a few long moments in time he finally had some. He struggled to fold it thickly but at last he did and covered the wound.

He had done this severel times as it kept seeping through again and again. After what seemed like the 100th time it started slowing down, he felt so dizzy he was almost falling asleep in the toilet stall. He was certain nobody else was around so the bloodied boy decided to go and wash up at the sink. As he went to stand up his head pounded and his vision pitch black. He leant against the stalls wall. He felt as if he were spinning, his sight slowly became more visible he could see blurred colours again.

After some time he was able to open the door after some struggle. Stumbling over to the sink he turned on the tap with his shaking hands and washed the blood of his hands scratching at the dried blood picking at the dried blood under his fingernails. He washed his left arm it stung as the water splashed over the new cuts, they had all stopped bleeding a while ago. He stopped to take a few deep breaths before he was to wash his right arm with the still bleeding deep cut. He peeled of the tissue and took a few more deep breaths when he stuck his right arm under the water, it stung like hell, it stung like thousands of needles pricked him all at once but he clenched his jaw and washed it anyway. When all the old blood had washed off the cut still bled anyway not as much as earlier but still quite a bit, he stumbled back to the stall and took more tissue wrapping it around his arm in the same spot multiple times so it wouldn't seep through as fast, he dabbed some water at the end of it to make a quick seal.

Now the next problem hit him hard, his blazer. The sleeve was completely soaked it dried up blood he'd have to buy a new one 'cause this for sure was not coming out, it had already crusted and made the area inflexible. What the fuck could he do he cant wear the blazer for the rest of the day but his spare was back in his dorm and he had to get back to class now, he had been gone for 15 almost 20 minutes there was no chance he could run back to his dorm and run back in time and not get in trouble. He was probably in trouble by now too but that leaves him with nothing to cover his arms he can't just show up to class with his arms looking like that so what the fuck is gonna happen.

His blazer hung on Bakugou's almost lifeless body as he sat knees up to his chest back against the counters of the sinks. He tried and tried to think of something, anything! but all that thinking ended in complete and utter failure.

"fucking think!"

He hit his head into his balled up hands. Nothing...

"what are you-..."

1231 words
i hope you liked this chapter. I'm going back to school soon so i probably won't be posting as often maybe like once a week lets hope. Wonder who found him in the bathroom hmm.. besides that be safe.
have a great day♡
('･ｪ･｀)