It was four am. School would start in three and a half hours. Katsuki Bakugo woke up in a nervous sweat. No. He was soaked between his legs. Was it a damn wet dream? He tried to remember and then didn't want to.
He was chained up to a chair. He had been kidnapped by the League of Villains and the worst part was that… it was all real.
Suddenly, he was mortified. He had indeed wet the bed. Oh God. His sheets. His mattress! He got up and ran them to the laundry room, where he found Shoto, also running a load.
"What're you doing here, IcyHot?!" Bakugo asked Todoroki.
Shoto Todoroki closed the lid of the upright washer and turned the dial, letting the cycle begin. "Laundry."
With that, he left.
Bakugo spent the rest of the school day feeling awkward. He didn't even have time to tease the other students. As soon as the bell rang, Katsuki beelined for his dorm. He went to check and see if his mattress was stained, and he cursed himself to see a small colorless water stain. He didn't know what to do. Burn the mattress?
A picture of his family sat on his bedside table. He caused them stress and worry. He thought about everything that he had done to his parents. He was an ass to them and in his plight to be the best, he was just awful. Katsuki knew it, too.
With a primal scream, he hurled the picture frame at the door. Crying was strictly forbidden. He skipped dinner and drank nothing. The plan was to stay up all night, too. Ugh, it was going to be hard.
Shoto had been about to knock on Katsuki's door when the picture frame connected to the inside of the frame. Maybe another time…
But 'another time' came that evening. Todoroki had been up late, studying. When he passed by Bakugo's room, the door swung open, quickly and he had a laundry basket on his hip. Yep. Sheets again.
"Wow, you look awful." Todoroki noted.
But the worst part was that it was true!
Bakugo frowned. "You're in my way."
Todoroki stepped aside and kept his eyes on Bakugo, pissing him off. He knows. He thought to himself. There's no way that he would act like this unless he knew. Bakugo shrugged and made his way to the laundry room before heading to the bathroom.
Once there, he looked for a stall. He hadn't drunk anything for hours but if he could force himself to urinate, maybe he wouldn't have another accident. There were no stalls open. He could use a urinal but what if nothing came out? He'd just stand there like a jackass. Frustration and humiliation raged through his teenaged body, and he aimed to punch the wall between the bathroom mirrors but missed and hit the edge of the glass. The mirror remained whole, but he split his knuckle down the middle. He hissed at the pain and stomped off, left hand holding his right hand, all wrapped in the hem of the tank top.
Ice.
That's what he needed. He went to raid his mini fridge and cursed to find that he had wasted all of the ice in his drink earlier.
"What the hell is going on?!" He screamed before stripping off his shirt and throwing it in the corner of his room.
A knock at the door.
"NO!" He shouted.
"Bakugo." Came a stern voice. A stern, but tired voice.
The teen stalked across his dorm to open the door. "Yes, Sensei?"
Aizawa stood in his clothes, clutching the end of his capture weapon, wrapped around his neck. "I'd like to talk with you."
What could he do?! Say NO?! Of course not. "Yes, Mr. Aizawa." He answered.
His teacher came in and turned around his desk chair before gesturing for the boy to sit. Bakugo sat on his bare mattress, obediently.
"I presume you do not know what this is about?" Shota Aizawa asked.
Bakugo shook his head and remained silent and studied the ground. After a moment passed, he answered aloud. "No, sir."
Aizawa nodded. "I'll cut to the chase. The staff and fellow students have noticed your behavioral changes over the past few days and following your rescue from the League of Villains. The faculty has come to the conclusion that you are struggling with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD for short. This was not a—"
"Stop." Katsuki interrupted, lifting his head. He was so angry and mortified that he was trembling. "I'm not so weak that a simple kidnap-and-captivity is going to take me down!"
"That's really what you think?" Aizawa pressed. "Or what you want to believe?" He looked at the shattered picture frame, set by the bedside. There was still glass on the floor. "Hm."
Bakugo froze. He thought about the nightmares. He wasn't scared while he was captive, but who knows how much adrenaline was in his system at that time. Thinking on it again, was he scared? No. But he felt some sort of horrible Survivor's Guilt. Why did it have to be him that All Might saved?! If there was one person who did not need saving, it was Katsuki Bakugo.
"Why are you here?" Katsuki asked. "I'm fine."
Aizawa stood. "You're missing the point, kid." He cleared his throat. "Get some sleep."
Bakugo waited until the door closed before he got up to go get his sheets. It was later than he thought. The bathroom was empty. Everyone had brushed their teeth and gone to bed. He kept walking down the hall, deep in his own thoughts.
"Bakugo." Todoroki said.
"Agh!" Katsuki exclaimed, stepping back and dropping his laundry basket. "What the hell, Todoroki?!"
Shoto raised an eyebrow. What? No cruel nickname? Hm. He looked at Bakugo and then at the laundry basket. "Laundry again?"
The anxiety was almost too much for the hotheaded teen. He scowled. "Yes. Now get outta my way."
The laundry room was at the end of the hall to the right. He found that the load had already been shifted from the dryer and neatly folded. Who in the hell touched my sheets?!
An annoyed Bakugo took the sheets and threw them in his basket before making his way back to his room. "It's going to be a looooong night." He muttered to himself, pushing the door open.