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-feel free to listen to the music while you read-

-trigger warning-

Izuku had gone to sleep that night for about one hour, his mind jumping from one thought to the other. After what happened that evening, with Shinso and the memories of Hisashi, Izuku woke up in a cold sweat. There was no way he was getting sleep that night, his pleas from that day ran through his head, he could confidently say that the only person he hated with a burning passion was that old geezer. He rubbed his lightly scarred wrist, running his thumb over the small bumps of the scars, he hadn't cut himself in a month and one week, he was trying desperately not to break that streak. He had worked so hard to stop, he put his blood, sweat and tears into overcoming this harmful habit, but the urge had started to resurface, it was starting to effect his mental state more than he accounted for.

He stood up, stretching his back, he assumed it was about twelve thirty, maybe one, though he couldn't tell for sure. 'Maybe just a small one' he thought reassuringly to himself, he was almost certain that if he cut at least once, the urge would cease to exist for another month. But deep down, he knew it was just another empty promise. He made his way to the kitchen, he knew that it was risky, but none of his roommates would suspect such a happy teenager to hurt himself, would they?

He, as quietly as possible, took a potato peeler from the utensil draw, putting it in his pocket before he grabbed a glass, filling it with the cold water from the fridge. He walked back to his room, practically tip toeing down the hall. He closed his door, flinching at the small creaking sound it made. He sat back down on his bed, turning on the lamp before pulling the peeler out of his pocket, he fiddled with it for a few minutes before the blade came loose, falling onto his lap soundlessly. He put the handle on his desk and picked up the small blade, pressing it into his wrist before flicking it through the sensitive skin on his pale arm. The action was a familiar one, this may sound something a sadist would say, but he'd developed a skill, a way to quickly cut through the skin in a matter of seconds.

He hesitantly made a slightly deeper one before hiding the blade and handle in the back of his drawer. He laid back on his bed, not before taking a small sip of his water, he didn't fall asleep again that night, he relished the slight sting on his wrist as he payed there, on his bed, emotionless lay staring at the ceiling. For hours.

Surprisingly, the sun was just starting to rise when Izuku got tired of doing nothing, he stood up, grabbing a set of clothes before making his way to the apartment rooms shower. He got undressed, stepping under the warm water, feeling it drip gently down his skin, he almost immediately started cleaning the dry blood off of the two fresh cuts. Izuku frowned, he knew what he was doing was bad, he had spent years trying to stop, countless years of disappointment when it always lead to him cutting again. Getting over theses problems are harder than most people think, some people who have close friends that had cut in the past, or had an eating condition, are constantly trying to fight off urges, for the most part, it was nothing but a fruitless attempt. But at least the people that are still fighting have a beating heart, the fight only ends when the victim gives in, killing themselves off in some way.

He turned off the shower, slipping on his dark green sweater over the top of a white tshirt, he put on his grey boxers, then his black shorts, he put bandaids on the small cuts before he left the bathroom. Greeting a tired Kirishima, he was currently munching and crunching on the heart healthy Cheerios. "G'morning mido..." he yawned, showing off his spikey teeth, "good morning Kirishima!" Izuku smiled as bright as he could, walking into the kitchen to make himself a tea.

The sound of a throat clearing caught the two boys attention, "oh! Hey Shinso!" Izuku directed his attention to Shinso, who was frowning deeply while eyeing Izuku's face, "why do you have deep eye bags, they're usually my thing." Izuku shrugs, unnoticeable panic flowing through his veins, "I didn't get the recommended eight hours of sleep last night," Izuku chirped, turning back to the now boiled water, technically he wasn't lying. Shinso glared at the smaller boy before sitting next to Kirishima at the table, "hey, I need to talk to you in private later, just you," the insomniac whispered, making the red head perk up, "why?" He asks in a slightly louder whisper, "it's concerning mido," he says, jutting a thumb at the green haired male still mixing his chai tea. Kirishima nodded worriedly, "don't tell anybody else about this, ok, I'm trying to respect midoriyas privacy, but this must be acknowledged." The two nodded to each other, continuing their morning as usual.

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