A Talk With The Quiet Kid

Chapter 3

The next day

Katsuki POV

It's the weekend. I just came out of my room to drink water. I forgot about the food Kirishima would leave in the fridge for me. Mina walks in and tells me that Aizawa is here for me. 'Where is he?' I ask. 'He's in the hall. Oh, yeah! You didn't eat dinner last night, it's in the fridge.' The pink haired girl in front of me announces. I'm kinda hungry, so I ask her what it is.

'Katsudon!'

I freeze. Pausing my breathing. Eyes widening a little and going back to tiredness.

Katsudon.

I'm not hungry anymore. I tell her that i'm not interested and walk away to the hall, where the man stands, who knows my deepest secret; my best friend. I look at him with somber eyes. I'm not ready to talk more, but he'll call my parents.

'Good morning, Bakugou. I would like to continue where we left off yesterday.' He says.

'There's nothing to talk about.' I protest.

'There is, we didn't finish the questioning.'

'Where then?' I ask him while looking away. 'Your room, if that's possible.' I hear him say. I exhale and remember I haven't cleaned up the mess I made last night. The blade is somewhere in the room. I don't remember where. I agree and walk off with him to my dorm.

When we arrive at my room, I tell him I have to clean up something in there. So that he'll wait outside my room. He looks at me with pain in his eyes. He knows.

When I welcome him in my room, I see him inspecting my messy room. It probably stinks here. I can't smell it cause i'm used to it. I look away. After a second or three I hear 'Did you relapse?'
I pauze.

'yeah, it was yesterday though..' I whisper. He sighs. 'Okay, Bakugou. This has to stop. You're gonna give me all the stuff you use to hurt yourself with.' my teacher says. I immediately protest and say no.

'You'll have to. I'm your teacher, I need to take care of you if you're struggling.' He says.

'You don't need to. You just have to teach me about hero stuff.' I object.

'I care about you, bakugou.'

That caught me off guard. He doesn't. He doesn't. He doesn't. Don't lie to me. I hate lies.

'Still no.' I say with a crack in my voice. D*mn it. I'm so f*cking weak. I can't even talk normal.

'You can't become a hero if you're struggling.' he responds.

'Shouldn't I be in jail..?' I ask, trying to change the subject. He replies sternly 'Don't change the subject. And it depends.' I look at him, trying to figure out how to talk him out of it, but nothing comes up. 'I can't-' I try to continue, but I feel an ache in my heart. 'I can't.. give them...' I whisper.

'I can help you, Bakugou.' He says.

'Weren't ya here for the questions? Just do that.' I protest. My heart is racing. I feel hotter and my head feels light.

I hate feeling like this.

'I am.' he says.

'Question me then.' I demand. I think I finally made him stop thinking about my blade. 'Okay, but you're gonna give me them after the questions,' he explains. D*mn it. He's probably gonna remember after the session. I click my tongue and say 'Fine.'

We sit down on my bed where a pile of clothes is.

Aizawa POV

I read the question i'm supposed to ask my student. 'Ask your student or child to show them their arm and thigh' is the question. I know he just relapsed, so i'm not asking that. I look up and see that Bakugou is picking on his nails. I sigh and ask him the next question.

'Are you diagnosed with any type of disorder, such as adhd?' I ask softly. He looks up and stops picking at his nails. 'Uh.. yeah. With the light form of autism.' He responds. Okay. Kinda guessed it with how he reacts to some kind of stuff different than the other students. 'Do you think you have any other disorders, such as depression?' I continue. I see him looking back at his fingertips, which are already bleeding a little bit. 'Bakugou, stop picking on your nails.' I warned. He looks back up at me and just shrugs. I sigh and ask the question again. 'I don't know.. maybe-' he cuts himself off. He probably doesn't want me knowing that he's feeling depressed or is depressed.

'Do you have ptsd?' I ask. 'I don't know if it counts..' he says while questioning himself. 'What happened?' I ask, wondering what happened in the past that made him question himself. He looks away and puts his hands around his both thighs. 'Uh..' I hear. I'll stay quiet, cause he might open up now. 'When Izuku died.. right like- in front of me..' he whispers. I was gonna ask him how he died but continued shortly after. 'He took all the medication and pills he could find in his house and uh yeah, overdosed.'
Oh.

I asked him if he wants to talk more about it, but he refused. The next question is if he ever felt su*c*dal. I look up at him from the paper and scan his face. His scar.

I get flashbacks of how careless he was with his life when he fought shigaraki. It seemed like he was just trying to save everyone by killing himself.

I ask him the question. He stiffens up. He starts to pick on his fingertips again. 'What would you do if I said I wasn't?' he questions me while looking at his fingers. 'I'd be glad, but I think it's the other way around, am I right?' I say. He exhales while frowning his eyebrows, which he definitely picks on as well. You can see some missing spots of hair. 'What would you do if you were right?' he says while whispering. 'I might call your parents and we'll see what happens next.' I suggest. He looks up at me and stares at my face for a while before looking away again. 'I do feel like.. wanting to die, yeah.. but please don't call my mom or dad.. you're the first one that knows..' he pleads.

He can't stay like this. so I suggest 'I won't. but in one condition. you'll stay clean from self harm.' He immediately barks back 'no way in hell.'

'Then i'll call your parents.' I debated back. He stays quiet. 'Look, you might feel miserable the first few weeks or even months. But I promise you, Bakugou. it does get better.' I continue. 'What if I don't wanna get better at all?' he threatens. I know how you feel.

'Wanna hear a story?' I ask. He looks confused but says 'okay?' I place the paper on my lap and start talking. 'Okay, there was this boy, he struggled with the same stuff you're going through. Self harm, being suicidal, and the blame on the death of a loved one. He was miserable. He wanted to die because he thought that his problems would go away. He had this friend. He also missed that person that died. But, he saw that his friend was struggling more than anything. He helped him, first, with his addiction to self harm, then the blame he had of his loved one being gone and then, he, the miserable boy, felt a will to live again. And now he's a grown up. Of course he still misses the boy, but isn't sick anymore.'

The kid in front of me looks at me, not really knowing what to say he says 'and... did you know him or something?' I smile while saying that the boy was me. He looks at me with disbelief, again not knowing what to say.

'I just want you to know that you can get better. Even if you feel like you can't. Or don't want to because it'll be so tiring.' I add. He looks at his arm. 'You can blame yourself for someone's death for the rest of your life, but that doesn't mean you have to go as well.' I end.

'Some people can't heal.' he says while crossing his arms.

'If they don't try, yes.' I reply.

'But what if they are trying..!?'

'They'll need an extra hand, then.'

WORD COUNT: 1416