Chapter Text
Heart pounding and vision fuzzy Bakugou pulled at the skin on his fingers. The inside of the closet was dark and quiet, a soothing balm to his psyche that felt like it was going up in flames. Images burned their way across the backs of his eyelids.
The wound on his shoulder festering and the veins in his body slowly turning black. The corruption slowly crawling out from that central point until he saw the tips of his fingers turn black. In a flash the scene changed and he saw himself pull out his knife, saw himself cut into his own skin, saw the black poison seep out of his skin. In his head he cuts deeper, watching his own blood mix with the black, speeding its exit of his body. In his head this feels like relief, like cleansing, like freedom. These images don’t feel like his imagination, they feel real. He can feel that black poison moving through his body with every pump of his heart. He knew it wasn’t real, he knew that… but it doesn’t change anything. The wound on his shoulder is real. A result of his imperfection during training. If he had been stronger, faster… better… this wouldn’t have happened. His mind turns to the small object hidden in the back of his closet underneath a bag of old training clothes. His fingers twitch to reach for it but he tries to resist.
Remembering the wound on his shoulder he rolls it back and forth. The skin is tight, but that means it’s healing. According to the last hundred times he’d checked, it wasn’t infected. The itch sure made it feel like something was wrong though. As a hero course student he’d had his share of injuries, but most get healed after training. This one though was a product of his own stupidity and clumsiness. Recovery Girl didn’t need to be bothered for dumb shit like this. His stupid fucking body was perfectly capable of cleaning up a mess that it itself had made.
This line of thought is dangerous. It’s steps backwards in his effort to calm down. Images from yesterday’s training session go flashing through his head. He was fighting IcyHot but it was a real fight. That bastard had leveled up and Bakugou was having trouble keeping up. Bakugou was as hard a worker as they come, better than almost everyone. Since coming to UA though, he had realized that he wasn’t the only one that was this determined and strong. Fucking IcyHot was getting much better at using his fire and now he was on a whole other level. While trying to dodge a blast of fire, ice had come shooting at him, and he failed to dodge in time. He slammed into the rocks behind him, an outcropping slicing into his shoulder. Aizawa had called training shortly after so he blasted his way to the locker room and grabbed his stuff. He managed to get out and back to his dorm before anyone noticed he was bleeding. He knew they would tell him to go to Recovery Girl, but he couldn’t. He didn’t need help and certainly didn’t deserve to have his mistake erased.
He’s rocking now with his arms wrapped around his knees. His hand moves and it’s like he didn’t even make a decision before it’s wrapping around the small knife he keeps underneath those clothes. The images are flashing through his head again, the black oozing out of his shoulder. At this point the need to get it out is thrumming through his whole body. He can’t quite reach his left shoulder so he settles for his arm, imagining how it’ll feel to get the black poison out, how relieved he’ll feel when the buzzing stops. Like a man possessed he makes a small cut and watches the blood well up. There’s no black oozing out of his arm, he knows this, but his brain superimposes the image anyway. He makes a slightly larger cut and the relief finally sets in. He watches the blood drip down his arm and land on an old shirt on the floor. He floats like this for a while just watching the drip, drip, drip of his failure leaving his body.
Bakugou isn’t sure how much time passes. The cuts are small and he’s not worried about the blood so he lets himself stay in this place a while longer. It’s easier here, the problems and solutions are simple. Bakugou messed up and now he’s fixing it. After this his body will stop buzzing, his skin will stop feeling so tight against his bones. His head will finally be quiet. There is a small voice in the back of his head whispering that this isn’t the way, but he floats away from it. At some point his eyes had slipped closed and he watches the way the colors swirl against the back of his eyelids. He couldn’t mess up or be a failure here, here he just existed. Distantly he’s aware of his phone buzzing on the floor on and off, and it threatens to drag him back out of this comfortable haze so he tunes it out. He tunes everything out until he hears a slam next door. That meant Kiri was back and he panics a little. He knew Kiri would come knocking soon, probably to drag him to some dumb hang out.
Shitty hair didn’t know about this. He did it infrequently enough that it wasn’t easy to notice. He’d like it to stay that way so he tries to come back to himself.
Bakugou forces his own eyes open and grounds himself in his body. He breathes through the haze, forces air into his lungs. Slowly, so so slowly, the feeling recedes. He keeps his eyes open. He stays there, curled up on the floor of his closet staring at his shoes until it’s been so long that his muscles cramp and limbs go numb. Little by little he uncurls and lets traitorous feeling back into his limbs. He reaches for his phone to check on what his idiot has been up to.
Shitty Hair: Hey Bro :) movie night downstairs! You bailed last time so you have to come hang out with us tonight!!
Shitty Hair: Dude seriously, we miss you.
Shitty Hair: If you don’t come down here by 6 I’ll come get you myself bro.
Shitty Hair: It’ll be way more fun than you think! Super manly movie tonight, guess who picked? ;)
Bakugou rolled his eyes and checked the time. 5:58. Great, he’d be here in two minutes provided he didn’t get overly excited and— Bakugou heard the footsteps outside his door before he heard the knock. He starts, taking in his bloody arm and his disheveled state. He climbs out of his closet on unsteady legs, hollering for Kiri to give him a minute at the same time that the door opens.
They lock eyes across the room and he sees Kiri’s smile freeze on his face. His eyes travel up and down Bakugou, landing on his arm. It wasn’t dripping anymore but the blood was obvious on his pale skin. Kiri’s eyes round but the smile stays fixed in place. Bakugou watches him take a deep breath and purposely loosen his stance. Distantly he appreciates his efforts to act normal and calm, but more immediately he feels anxiety burning hot through his body.
With a deep breath Kiri looks at Bakugou. “Bro, we need to talk.”