nothing fucking good.

chapter 13

(Authors note: Another filler chapter, sorry. I'm just building the story up so i can get to the dramatic parts. Nothing too bad in this chapter, mentions of being skinny could be triggering i guess. Enjoy.)

Izuku sat on his desk, one hand under the table squeezing his finger muscle thing, one hand resting on the page of his note book, fingers moving and creating lines across the page. Lines that would soon create a small skinny tired looking Kacchan. Like the one he saw at the shops.

He still had Kacchan's number, but Kacchan had blocked him. Obviously, he had him on snapchat, but he was trying to give him some space after the argument they had. For some reason, Kacchan still thought that he was looking down on him, but in all honesty, it was just his hero complex not being able to rest for a second.

Izuku almost shuddered at the shop memory.

When he had seen Bakugou that day, he felt as if he was looking entirely at someone else. Bakugou's eyes had turned red around the edges from pure fatigue and the bags under his eyes could've rivalled the actual shopping bags they were holding. Kacchan's form had definitely shrunken in size back then compared to when they were back in school. Ever since that day, he had been, not so subtly, obsessing over it.

Being himself, he over analysed practically everything a little too much, it was a side effect of his analytical instincts and diagnosed anxiety.

When he looked back to his tiny, sad Kacchan sketch, he was scarily reminded that that was what Bakugou had looked like that day, and there was no questioning it, there was something horribly off about him.

With tears springing to his eyes, he shut his book and with shaky hands, he put the finger muscle thing down and laid his trembling hands on his note book.

As he stared down at his scarred hands, he lifted a crooked hand up and examined the skin wrapped tight around his muscles, ligaments and bones on the single hand. Taking a deep sigh, he let his hand fall limp and basked in the calm and quiet of his room, not wanting to trigger any sort of anxiety attack by over thinking Kacchan's state.

Feeling more determined, he walked over to his bedside drawers and retrieved his phone from the charger. Being clumsy, he had dropped the phone multiple times, but despite the slightly cracked screen, it worked fine. So, unlocking his phone, he opened up snapchat and sat then the edge of his bed, mentally preparing to text Kacchan. God knows he needed to.

You: Hey Kacchan.

Kacchan: Wtf do you want nerd?

You: To catch up. It's been ages!

Kacchan: And why the fuck would you want to 'catch up' with me?

You: Why are you so sceptical?

Kacchan: Why won't you answer?

You: We could go on like this for ages, so let's just stop.

Kacchan: Ok. Bye, nerd.

You: ugh. You know that's not what I meant.

Kacchan: There's nothing new going on Deku, so just shut up and leave me alone.

You: I thought you got over the completely hating me phase you were in?

Kacchan: Well, seems like I'm going to have to go back to completely hating your stinky ass, Deku.

You: Fine. You know I just want to help though.

Kacchan: Well, you're not doing a very good job, first of all. Second of all, I don't need help. Third of all, if you wanted to waste my time, you're on the right track.

You: Just know that you can always tell me anything.

Kacchan: Just stop already. Bye.

You: bye.

Putting the phone down, Deku frowned at his failed attempt and Bakugou's pure stubbornness. What was he supposed to do? This was a lot harder than he expected.