Scars {A Kiribaku Story}

I am a tired, stressed, gay disaster

(I know I'm the author but that title is the biggest mood)

Bakugou's PoV

I was now alone in my room since Kiri decided it would be best if we all got a rest before leaving. I couldn't rest though, I paced around my room in agitation. I was knocking over anything in my path and throwing random objects in random directions.

I was so confused on what to do. What could I do? I can't tell them that my mom is... my mom, but if I don't then they could be put in danger. Actually, she doesn't like acting that way in front of people when she's not drunk. If she's drunk though, she doesn't think about what she's doing first. I bit my lip in concentration, trying to figure out how that information could help me even the slightest bit.

I racked my brain for a plan. I'd have to sneak out, despite the much improved security since the villain attacks, get to my mom and do something. I don't know what to do though. Dammit why did Kaminari have to get himself in trouble? I threw a glass lamp across the room in anger, it shattered against the wall. There was still a large part of it intact and I punched it, slicing my knuckles and breaking the glass. I sat down heavily with my back against the wall, making sure I wasn't sitting on any fragments.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. I shoved my hand into my pocket and called out. "Come in!"

A mop of red hair appeared as the door slowly opened, I relaxed. Kirishima stood there, wearing just a plain red shirt with the simple word 'Riot' and grey shorts. He looked tired as hell, honestly I don't think I looked any better. He opened the door wider, scanning the room for me. Eventually he looked down and saw me sitting by the door, his eyes widened when he saw the broken lamp and small droplets of blood that I just realised were there.

"Bakugou! What the hell?" He yelped, stepping toward the broken glass. I smiled awkwardly.

"I had a little accident." I murmured, he looked at me in what appeared to be disbelief.

"You think?" He shrieked. I held my finger to my mouth reminding him that we had neighbors. Poor Shouji. He knelt near the glass, about to sweep it up with his hands but realised it would slice through his skin. He waved his hands around frantically. He then remembered the something, peering at the red liquid on the carpet.

"Where the hell is the blood coming from? Are you hurt?" He asked desperately. I didn't want to worry him but I showed him my bloody fist. He silently shrieked and ripped off his shirt. I loudly shrieked, feeling my face warm up. He looked slightly less worried for a second and more amused, but remembered my hand. He wrapped up the knuckle with the red shirt, stopping any more blood from leaking out.

"Anywhere else?" He asked me. I was way too flustered to answer with words. I shook my head quickly, making myself dizzy. Jesus Christ, I am a gay disaster. He relaxed, moving next to me and leaning on the wall. I was careful not to make eye contact with his abs.

"You okay?" I asked him, noticing the dark eye bags showing on his face. He noticed me looking and rubbed his eyes with his fist.

"Yeah, why'dya ask?" He grinned at me, but I could see the stress lines on his face. I shook my head, I gently touched my hand to his cheek, then the other. I looked him in the eye, he look at me in puzzlement.

"You sure?" I asked again. He made an 'mmm' sound. I rolled my eyes. "You know, you can talk to me if you you're not okay, right?"

"You're one to talk." He pointed out. I huffed indignantly, putting my hands back to my sides. You have no idea how close I was to kissing his stupid, cute face. You also have no idea how close I was to punching that stupid, cute face.