Not Okay (Depressed Deku x Bakugou) {!Under Editing!}

10- Awkward dinner

Just saying the photo I use has no relevance to the store so you can ignore it.

(Aizawa's POV)

It's almost  5, why hasn't he come out of his room yet? Is he okay? What is he doing?

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Shinso slowly walked to the door and opened it. On the other side was a skeleton of a man. Toshinori? Why was he here?

I take the door from Shinso.

"Hey, Toshinori. What are you doing here?" I questioned.

"Oh, Yamada invited me for dinner." I look back to see Yamada give me an innocent smile with a small wave as he cooks dinner.

"Well, come in." I open the door wider and he enters.

"Thank you for having me." He says as I glare at Yamada

"Hey, uncle Might," Shinso says as he hugs the little man.

"So where is young Midoriya," Toshinori asked.

"Let me just call him down for supper," Yamada states
"Izuku come down for supper, please."

(Deku's POV)

I had heard All might's voice from my room. I didn't want him to see me like this, not with a tube in my nose. I pulled the hood over my head and tucked the end of the tube in my hoodie.

"Izuku come down for supper, please." Yelled Pops.

This was going to be bad, I could feel it. I kept my head down as I walked down the stairs. I stopped at the end of the stairs feeling a hand on my shoulder.

"Young Midoriya, what's wrong." All might questioned.

I lifted my head, he looked at my face and the tube. His face was shocked, you could see the confusion in his eyes.

"Oh." All might finally respond and released my shoulder.

I walked past him and sat down at the dining table, a bowl of ramen in front of me. everyone sat down after me. They all started to eat as I just played with it.

"So, Shinso how's school." All might asked trying to break the awkward silence.

I didn't hear what shinso said I just started at the ramen, numbers bouncing around my head. The number of calories, the fat content, everything. I knew everything about it. It wasn't even food to me it was a number.

But I didn't like the number, 500. 500 calories. Too big the number was way too big. It made me feel sick. Oh, how I hated that number.

I could feel their eyes on me, burning holes in my head. I can't do this. I can't, no I just can't. I pushed the bowl away from me. I stood up and started to run to my room.

"I'm sorry, I can't," I said as I left.

I closed the door behind me. I threw myself on it, I could hear the springs. I just wanted to be left alone, I wanted them to stop. Stop trying to help, to feed me. To just stop.

My head hurt so bad. The thought wouldn't go away and I couldn't stop them. I decided to write down some of the thoughts and memories thinking it might help.

I found a small notebook and a pencil. It was hard to keep up with the thoughts but it was easy to write down the memories. They were glued in my mind, making it impossible to completely and permanently forget them.

After writing for ten minutes I felt tired so I went to bed leaving the notebook on my desk, which was a big mistake.

(Aizawa's POV)

I knocked on his door before entering. He was asleep on his bed. I walked up to him and covered him with the blanket before brushing his now white hair out of his face.

I turned around to exit his room then I saw it. It was a notebook, I hadn't seen it before. I walked to the desk and grabbed it. I opened it and read some of the pages, most filled with random and quickly written nonsense. Except for a couple of pages, one of them in particular.

His name was Scott, that's all I knew about him. He came into my room one day and told me I had pretty eyes. This situation was one I was familiar with.

He pushed my back to the bed. He pulled off my shirt then he froze my hands to the bed so I couldn't move them. He removed his shirt and then ran his fingers on my body before he pulled down my pants.

He did the same to himself. He riped the ice off my writes and turned me around so my back faced him. He froze my hand again and pulled down my boxers then his.

I cried and screamed but he didn't care. His hand we're cold on my back and even colder when he held my hips.

"You ready kid." He whispered in my ear.

I wasn't ready I would never be ready. He pushed himself into me, I yelled it hurt even more than when my father did it to me.

"You like that kid." He whispered again.

I begged him to stop but he didn't, he just thrusted into me faster than faster and faster. I cried harder but that didn't stop him. He finally came and pulled out.

He grabbed his clothes and left my room without another word.

It was my first foster home and I was 10 years old. They gave me up a week later saying I was to difficult.

I took a couple of pictures and put the notebook back. I knew he was abused but I don't know he was raped. Maybe that's why he doesn't like it when people touch him.

Thanks for reading bye.