Bakugou x Male Reader (Rewritten)

5 - partners with the puple guy.

//self harm

I began to feel dizzy in fear of my parents finding out. If I came to the nurses office, claiming I had no recollection of getting these cuts. Of course they're going to notify my parents.. I'm less scared of my dad finding out than my mother. My father would take into account I had no memory of it, while still keeping a worried expression. My mother on the other hand.. I don't wanna think about it.

I realised that it sounded stupid.. I mean, who doesn't remember scratching up their entire arm?! It sounded like a lazy excuse to not worry others. Like- 'I cut myself really badly, but it's ok because I don't remember doing it!' It makes it sound so idiotic. And with no memory of it brings up more questions. Why didn't I remember? Did I do it? What's wrong with my memory to block out these types of things?-

"You're not a baby, you ain't need me anymore." Bakugou stated, which brought me out of my mind racing with questions. He then swiftly swung around to go to class. But before he walked, he gave me a quick summary of the directions. Just praying to god that I remembered, unlikely that I would, I then knocked on the door.

I heard a faint voice from the other side, letting me enter. Opening the door, I saw recovery girl sitting at her desk as the chair she was on spun slowly to face me. I looked around for a few seconds, trying to find the words to speak, and sighed. Then, I held out my arm, showing the cuts with dry blood formed around them.

Before she could think I was reporting myself to self inflicted damage, I spoke up. "I- these a-appeared out of nowhere." I hoped she'd believe me. She made a small hum as she stared at the cuts. They were all in sequenced lines, ranging from light cuts down to deeper ones entering fat level towards my wrist.
The blood around it and the width were a giveaway to how deep each where.

Recovery girl then mentioned how deep the ones near my hand were. And looking at them, yeah, they were dangerously deep at to how close they could be to nicking a vain. Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case, and I seemed to miss any vital parts, if I even did it.

I had to bear with her Quirk, a deep level of discomfort arosed in my head, but it was interesting to see the cuts heal so quirky. Though they didn't heal completely, it was good enough. Most of the scar tissue was healed, so it needed no bandages. "Thank you." She hummed in response,

"You best get yourself back to class. The bell will ring soon. If any more of these mysterious cuts appear, come to me." I nodded, and stayed still for a moment, trying to built the courage to talk.

"Uhm.. if p-possible,, can- uh- can you not tell my parents? M-my mother, esp-specially.." recovery girl then mentioned she'd try to avoid telling them, however she'd need to notify one of them if it was on purpose. I thanked her, then headed off to class.

I tried my hardest to remember the directions, but couldn't. So I ended up using my gut instinct, and wondered around the halls. Eventually, I found my way generously fast. Confused as to how I found my way, I furrowed my eyebrows, but didn't dwell on it.

Opening the door, I'd realised everybody were in their seats, and their eyes pierced through me. A blush of embarrassment fell on my face as I hurried to my seat while muttering an apology for being late. I guess the bell went before without me realising it. By the looks of it, I wasn't dangerously late, just by a minute or two.

Even though I was at the back of the classroom, and I could see nobody was staring, I still felt eyes on me. Or more specifically, my arm. It was so clearly self inflicted. So clearly did they line up in a row, I couldn't hide it. And especially since my arm was clear from scars yesterday, people knew when I did it. Geez, this is the worst..
I hated all the nonexistent attention on me, and there worst part was I knew it was all in my head. But I couldn't stop the feeling of judgment peering into me.