Please, let me die.

Chapter Four

It was quiet.

The air hung thick in the room.

"Why the fuck are you still here?" Katsuki said, opting to look at the desk in front of him instead of the other student that occupied the room with him. However, when he spoke, the words seemed to fall out of his mouth instead of launching out of his throat like daggers with the intent to kill.

Shoto stood silent. He felt that if he were to speak he would break what is left of Bakugou.

All Shoto did was shrug and take the seat that is next to Katsuki. Katsuki made a face of clear disgust.

He finally released his death grip on his seat and decided to cross his arms in front of his chest. While doing so, his sleeve rode up his arm, showing off a bit of the bandage that adorned his wrist. Shoto knew immediately. His breath caught in his throat.

He never pegged, Katsuki Bakugou, to self-harm. It just seemed wrong. He was the boy with a bad temper, not many friends but didn't seem to care. He claimed he was the best, but if he really thought of himself as the best, he would not destroy his own body...

Oh.

Oh.

He often heard people talk about how his temper got in the way of things. He also had heard stories from Midoriya, that when they were in elementary and middle school, he used to be called a villain all the time. Yes, some people followed him around because explosions are flashy. But he would hear the teachers that were huddled together at the end of the hall, gossiping about the students, about him. About how destructive his quirk was. About his attitude. They expected him to go down the wrong path at some point in his life. They expected him to become a villain.

They didn't believe in him.

"Oi, Neapolitan ice cream. You just gonna sit there n' stare at me?" Katsuki's words held no fire. They sounded empty.

Without thinking, Shoto speaks.

"Why do you have bandages?" he pointed at them, leaning in a bit.

Katsuki looked like he had been stabbed. He moved fast to cover it back up.

Stupid stupid stupid. You already let someone see. What the fuck. You're so fucking pathetic.

"None of your fucking business, icy hot." Katsuki couldn't bring himself to look Shoto's way. He was ashamed.

That's a new feeling. Along with these other bullshit ones.

Fuck this.

"I don't need your fucking pity."

Shoto looked hurt. He knew what he was going through. Well, at least he thought he did. If it's what he thinks it is, then he knows probably more than anyone.

"I don't pity you. Not in the least. You're... you're acting different and I really wish you would tell someone what is going on. If... if it is what I think it is... Then I understand... Well to a degree." Shoto sat there, staring at his shoes. He spoke in hushed tones but just loud enough that he knew Katsuki could clearly hear him.

There must have been something in his voice. Something that got Katsuki to break.

Katsuki finally looked at Shoto, but when he had, what Shoto saw made him speechless.

Katsuki was crying.

Hot tears ran lines down his cheeks. His red eyes looked sad. Nothing else really. He just looked sad, which is very new. Katsuki is never sad, or at least never shows it.

"You," Katsuki's voice was shaky. "Do you... really know how I feel?" he was trembling. He looked sad and scared. Two emoting never seen on him before by anyone else but his parents.

Shoto couldn't speak, Katsuki wouldn't give him a chance.

"I feel awful. This fucking sucks," he spat out that last word. New emotions started to flood into him. Anger, embarrassment, agony. "My head hurts. My heart hurts. My head won't shut the fuck UP! It like some little shit was collecting data on me to use against me my whole life. Restating all of my faults and all of my fuck ups. I know I'm a piece of shit person. I know no one likes me. I know I kill shit. I know I commit a lot of property damage. I know I'm useless. I know all of these things. I have known all of these things so why.... Why now? Why does it hurt now?" Katsuki looked Shoto in the eyes. A part of him was raising a huge red flag that read ' what the fuck are you doing' but the other part of him shot the other one in the back of the head and told him to let his feelings out because this might be the only time your ego will let you.

"Ever since the festival, I thought about why people hate me... now I hate me too." A small smirk adorned his lips as if this was all a joke.

Shoto made a move to the blond's arm." May I?" he asked, gesturing to his wrist.

Hesitantly he nodded.

Shoto held Katsuki's left hand gently in his own, Katsuki's palm up. He then carefully unwrapped the tight bandage, revealing lines in his the blonds skin. Some were very shallow, but one or two of them were considerably deeper. He had seen (done) worse so it's not too big a deal.

What is a big deal is that he just confirmed Bakugou Katsuki self-harms.

He ran his finger over the raised skin that was just starting to scab over.

(flashbacccckkckkckckkceban8beimjvqa)

Shoto(age 13) held a large knife in his hands.

Today had been a long day.

Time for the best part. The time where he was in control.

Shoto looked at the knife, glimmering in the dim moonlight that filtered in from the small window in his room.

Today had been full if beatings from his father and tears from himself. His ears still rung from when his father slapped him.

Small hands trembled in fear if his father finding him. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the knife and pulled his short leg up, exposing his thigh. Dark, long scars littered the expanse of his pale skin.

A sharp inhale through the teeth at the first cut.

(end of flashback)

Katsuki's piercing eyes met Shoto's once he looked up.

Shoto clears his throat.