Nothing Goes Right When Sero's Involved (p.s. mom i love you)

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Sunlight reflected off the metal gates of my house, nearly blinding me.

I heaved a sigh, fingers scratching at one of the many itchy bandages covering my face.

My eyes drifted to the intercom doorbell next to the gates. I really didn't feel like buzzing it.

"I don't have all day, Mizugumo."

Mr. Aizawa stood leaning against one of the school cars with his arms crossed on his chest, an impatient frown on his face. Parked right outside my house, he was adamant to see me in before leaving.

Probably to make sure I won't run away.

I didn't remember much from last night, but Mr. Aizawa had graciously reminded me of all the rude stuff I said to him on the ride from the school to my house.

In way more detail than needed. One would think he had taken it personally.

"Mr. Aizawa, I really don't see the point in this." I slipped my heavy duffel bag off my shoulder and plopped it on the ground. "I already know what I did wrong and apologized for it. Suspending me just doesn't seem practical."

"We're giving you time to cool off and think about your wrongful actions. Now shut up and hurry-"

"I'm already completely cooled off!" My voice raised in exasperation as I cut my homeroom teacher off.

Mr. Aizawa raised an eyebrow pointedly.

I scoffed in annoyance. Picking the duffel bag up from the ground, I slung it over my shoulder and turned my back to Mr. Aizawa.

"Ring that doorbell, Mizugumo." There was a smug undertone in his expectant voice, and that irked me. "Your suspension is just one week, so stay put. Don't do anything. Literally."

"This is stupid," I muttered under my breath, which Mr. Aizawa unfortunately heard.

"I'm keeping you and Bakugo apart, Mizugumo."

My body stiffened as my mind recalled the events of last night. The anesthesia they gave me wiped my memory of what happened in my dorm, but I still remembered the near-death fight.

I also remembered waking up in the infirmary, with Bakugo passed out so peacefully on the bed next to mine. I remembered disregarding the pain in my body to crawl out of my bed, and I remembered snaking a hand onto the smooth skin of his neck.

I had felt the steady thrum of his pulse underneath my thumb and the ridge of his Adam's apple beneath my palm.

I had envisioned stopping the blood flow from his heart to his brain and relishing in the sound of his chokes as he desperately struggled for air.

But before I could really do anything, Mr. Aizawa had walked in on me with my hands wrapped around an unconscious student's neck, and he restrained me with his scarf at once.

I couldn't remember anything from then on.

The mere mention of Bakugo made my head pound and my blood boil.

"Whatever," I muttered, reaching a hand to ring the intercom doorbell.

"Mizugumo?"

"Mr. Mekura?"

Before I was even able to touch the intercom, Mr. Mekura opened the gates to my house from the inside and stared down at me in surprise, then focusing his confused gaze on Mr. Aizawa.

"She's suspended for a week, Mekura. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Suspended?" Mr. Mekura turned his attention back to me. "What the hell did you do, Mizugumo?"

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