𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑺 •𝒃𝒙𝒃•

Useless ~ 8

He walked through the crowd, careful not to touch anyone. Someone called out his name, but he made no move to turn around and face whoever it was. He just kept on walking.

Todoroki saw. He saw. Nobody was supposed to see. Nobody, and yet he was the one who did.

"Damn it..." He bit out through clenched teeth, anger mixed with frustration coating his words. A particularly harsh shoulder slam made him stumble to the side, almost tripping over his own damn feet. A light thud brought his attention back to the person who he knocked into. Curly green hair stood out against the light tiles and Yuma promptly froze in place.

"Ayatsuru?" Midoriya blinked up at him, trying to push himself up to his feet. A light wince left his lips and a small spark of regret bubbled up within Yuma. Just because he was mad didn't mean that the others should suffer.

Midoriya's round eyes stared at him and Yuma clenched his fists at his sides, "I'm sorry." With that, he turned around and walked away, disappearing within the crowd. Even as he wanted to help the boy up, he couldn't risk it.

The last time he touched someone's hand it didn't end well for both parties.

_

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, watching as translucent drops slid down from his hair and followed the curve of his jaw. They slipped down his neck and soaked into his unbuttoned collar, lightly darkening it.

What was he doing?

Green irises stared back at him and he closed his eyes.

What was he doing?

Thin fingers gripped onto the sink, pale knuckles turning white.

What was he doing?

He heard the sound of the door clicking open, but he didn't open his eyes, "The bell rang a while ago." A familiar voice said, slight exasperation seeping into the tone.

"I know." Yuma breathed out, lowering his head.

Shoes clicked against the tiled floor, "Then why are you here?"

Yuma slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with Aizawa's reflection in the mirror. The man was blankly looking at him, standing still with a hand on his hip, "I... got overwhelmed," he turned the sink, letting water flow, "How did you know where I was?" The water felt nice on his skin, so he lightly pressed his wet hand at the back of his neck, cooling himself down.

"Midoriya told me you looked unwell." Was the teacher's simple answer.

Ah... Midoriya?

"I see. Well, you should go back to class," Yuma leaned back, stepping away from the sink, "I'll be right behind you, sensei." He grabbed his tie from next to the sink and stuffed it inside his pocket, before he took the grey jacket under his arm.

A hand lightly gripped his shoulder, "We need to talk." Aizawa's voice sounded serious, and his expression matched well with it.

Yuma moved back, making the hand slip off his shoulder, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't touch me," he peered at Aizawa from the corner of his eye, "I don't quite like that."

The man pulled his hand back, before he stuffed it inside his pocket, "I understand, I'll remember that." Something akin to realisation flashed across Aizawa's features, before it disappeared as quickly as it appeared, "Come back when you've calmed down." With that, the man turned around and made his way out of the bathroom.

Yuma sighed, shoulders relaxing as soon as the door closed shut. He took a shaky step back, lower back brushing against the sink as he quickly took a hold of it. His jacket loosely hung on his arm, almost slipping off.