ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕘𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤 ・||・ E. Kirishima

♡*𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣: 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕆ℂ𝔻*♡

⚠️𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤)⚠️:

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𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠 𝕔𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕖:

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕕 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕡𝕠𝕧

"SEKIGUCHI!" , "Yes sir." Sekiguchi stopped what he was doing and turned to face his boss. "Where is Y/n?" F/n hardly even looked hung over and was already dressed in his suit despite it being 6 in the morning. "She left for school already. She said she needed to clean her classroom before school started." Sekiguchi knows F/n had probably arranged some overly expensive present for Y/n as an apology for last night and honestly he thinks it's ridiculous. Y/n shouldn't ever be involved in her father's work and a shiny new car won't make up for that. But Sekiguchi isn't in the position to say anything, he's basically just a servant for F/n. "Make sure she's home on time today, not messing around with her class." , "yes sir." F/n left and Sekiguchi continued cleaning the mess from last night. All the bodies had been disposed of so he was just cleaning the blood, alcohol and drugs that covered the room so it could be used again when it was next needed.

𝕐/𝕟 𝕡𝕠𝕧

I know is probably rude to clean other people's stuff but I can't help it. I couldn't sleep last night because nothing was clean or perfect enough. I disinfected my entire room and took two 3 hour showers. I got in the car at 5am this morning so I could clean the seats but ended up coming back to the house after leaving and cleaning my room again because I kept having this thought of "Dad's going to be killed if I don't do this right." it sounds so stupid but i can't explain how overwhelming it is.

I've cleaned every desk in this classroom 4 times and it's just not clean enough, it's not perfect. "Umm excuse me...." that red haired boy from yesterday tapped me on the shoulder which made me realise I was cleaning his desk. "Oh I'm sorry. That was so rude of me, I don't want you to think I think you're dirty. I just can't help it, I-" , "Woah, woah it's okay. I wasn't offended, if you want you can finish. I'm Kirishima by the way." he gave me a really big smile which showed me his mouth full of sharp, shark like teeth. "Thank you. I'm L/n." I pretended like I couldn't see him watching me and just finished cleaning his table. Once I was done I walked back to my desk which is conveniently next to the red haired boy. and disposed of my gloves before sanitizing my hands thoughtly. "No that didn't feel right, I didn't do it properly." I sanitized my hands again, and again until it felt right and my mind could rest. Then I realized I got here pretty early and there's only a few people here none of which I'm friends with. I got my phone out and gave the screen a quick wipe over, then another quick wipe over just to be safe. "Umm I don't mean to be rude but do you have OCD." if I had a dollar for everytime I was asked that. "No I don't. A lot of people ask me that but I just like being clean. Not to say you're not clean I just like being extra clean." I don't know why everyone asks me if I have OCD, I know I'm a lot cleaner than most people but I don't think I have OCD.

"Your quirk was pretty cool yesterday. What is it?" he has such a cute smile but I made sure not to look to much because dad would be pissed that I'm talking to a guy. He gets mad at the idea of me having a boyfriend and it quite frankly annoys the fuck out of me. "It's nothing special, I just fall asleep and can do whatever I can dream. Is your skin actually hard when you use your quirk." I saw his quirk yesterday during that little exam thing our teacher had us do and I wanted ask but it felt rude. "Yeah, I can show you." he rolled up his shirt sleeves and harded his arm up to his elbow. "Be careful, it's kinda sharp." I lightly ran my fingers over his arm and it really just felt like sharp rocks. "Also is your family the L/n family who grows the fruit or a different L/n family?" , "Also the family who grows marijuana." I can't say that, dad would rip me a new one. "Yeah we are-" , "I AM HERE!" Suddenly All Might sprung though the door apparently as any normal person does. "TODAY YOU WILL BE PRACTICING BATTLE TRAINING. SO GET YOUR COSTUMES AND GO." Why the fuck is he yelling so loud.

Like yesterday I was the last one to get changed because my costume wasn't folded properly in the box so I need to fold it properly before I can take it out a put it on. Why are all the thoughts so much louder today, no matter how perfect I do something I can't make them stop. They keep telling me "something horrible will happen to your class if you do this right." then after that all I can think is how I need to get this right so something bad doesn't happen. maybe it's everything that happened last night that's making me act like this. "Hey L/n, are you in here. Our teacher told me to come find you." Some pink girl came into the change rooms and found me on the floor, freaking out and trying to fold my clothes. "Are you okay?" she sat down beside me an put a hand on my shoulder which only really made me feel worse. "I can't do it right, I need to do it right. I have to do it right." I know I'm crying hysterically and nothing I'm saying makes any sense but I don't know how to explain it. "Can't do what right? Your costume looks fine." , "No it doesn't. I haven't done it right." I got up and paced around the change room with my hands over my ears hoping to block out my own mind. I haven't felt this overwhelmed and stressed in so long. "Do you want to just go to Recovery girl, maybe she can help." the pink girl didn't touch me this time but just walked me out to the nurse.

"Umm Recovery girl, I think she's having a panic attack." this small old lady hopped off her chair and waddled over to me. "Thank you dear you can go back to class now." the pink girl bowed then left the sick bay. "Do you want to sit down on a bed?" the nurse lady took my hand and tried to get me to sit on the bed. "Have these sheets been wash, I don't want to be contaminated by something. Has somebody slept on this bed?" I know it's the sick bay and it needs to be clean but it's also the sick bay and people who are sick come in here. I could catch something deadly just by being in here. "I cleaned the sheets last night. Would it bother you if someone had slept on the bed today?" , "Greatly." She walked away from the bed and pulled out a hard plastic chair that she wiped down which I really appreciated. "Can you sit here?" , "yes." I sat on the very edge of the chair just to be cautious. Recovery girl typed something up on her computer then swiveled around on her chair to face me. "So do you know what caused this panic attack?" , "I don't know it started last night when I couldn't clean my room right then this morning I got here at 6 and cleaned my whole classroom three times but It just wasn't good enough. Then my costume wasn't folded right and I just lost it." I'm really trying not to cry at the thought of all the things I didn't do right. "Do you know what's making you do all of this. Why are you getting so upset when it's not perfect?" Nobody has ever questioned me like this, am I in trouble. "Well what if something bad happens because I didn't clean the my room well enough, or someone gets sick because the desk was wiped over properly, what about when something horrible happens to my class because in didn't have my uniform folded correctly. I have to do it right, I have to." I feel nauseous just thinking about all of this. Nobody else I know acts like this and I know how stupid and irrational everything sounds but I can't control it. "Okay so I'm going to set up an appointment for with a psychiatrist I know because from what it sounds like maybe you could have OCD." Recovery girl printed off a sheet of paper and passed me a pamphlet. "I don't have OCD." I said, passing her back the note and pamphlet. "Well have you ever seen a doctor about it? If you do have OCD getting a diagnosis is probably the best thing you can do. With proper treatment and possibly medication you could help get control of those thoughts and your obsession with cleanliness. Show this to your parents or who ever you live with because you really need this." Recovery girl gave the note and pamphlet back to me and I just took it. "Thank you." I bowed to her and decided to see if I could catch the last bit of class. "Dad isn't going to be happy about this."

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𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟙𝟞𝟘𝟘

Before anyone starts on me about the costume it doesn't need to be practical it needs to be cute.

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟜 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕪 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖