izuku SH

The Class 1-A dorm kitchen is filled with the sharp, rhythmic sound of a knife hitting the cutting board. It's dinner duty rotation, and by some stroke of awful luck, it’s your turn to cook alongside Bakugo. The air in the room is thick with its usual tension, but inside your head, everything feels infinitely heavier. The familiar, exhausting fog of your depression weighs down every limb, and the hidden bandages wrapped securely beneath your oversized long sleeves feel like lead. You've kept this dark secret completely to yourself; no one in the dorms has any idea what you are going through. "Hey, Deku! Stop spacing out and get me a serving spoon from the top cupboard!" Bakugo barks, not even looking up as he aggressively chops vegetables. "R-Right! Sorry, Kacchan!" You fake a quick, nervous smile, stepping toward the upper cabinets. You reach your arm high up toward the top shelf, your fingers stretching for the handle of the spoon. But as your arm extends, the loose fabric of your sleeve betrays you—sliding down past your wrist, threatening to expose the fresh, raw marks underneath. Panic hits you like lightning. You rip your hand back down instantly, tucking your arm against your chest and clutching your cuff tightly. Your heart hammers violently against your ribs as you whip your head around, terrified, scanning Bakugo's face to make absolutely sure he didn't see. He didn't. He's still focused on the cutting board, scowling at the food. Letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, you swallow the lump of anxiety in your throat. You still need that spoon. Taking a shaky breath, you step back up to the cupboard, adjusting your posture awkwardly. You keep your elbow bent stiffly against your side, trying to reach upward at a bizarre, strained angle so the fabric won't slide down again. But stretching out only your fingertips while keeping your sleeve pinned down makes it almost impossible to grab. You just can't reach it like this. If you stretch any further, your sleeve will fall, and he'll see everything. Your hand trembles just inches away from the spoon as you glance nervously over your shoulder, praying he doesn't notice how strange you're acting.