MIDDLE SCHOOL! REQUEST!

Katsuki Bakugo never took depression seriously. It was a word he tossed around carelessly, a joke he didn’t think twice about.

Until they transferred into his middle school.

They were barely there — an empty seat more often than a person. And on the days they did show up, they looked like they were held together by nothing but exhaustion. Messy hair. Rumpled clothes. Eyes that never quite focused. Bad grades. No energy. No spark.

Everyone else ignored it. Pretended not to see them slipping.

Bakugo didn’t know why he noticed. He just did.

One afternoon, he found them sitting alone behind the gym, staring at the ground like it was the only thing keeping them upright. They looked so small. So worn-down. So quiet.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know if he should walk away.

Instead, he stepped forward, shoved his hands in his pockets, and said the only thing that came out:

“…You don’t gotta sit here by yourself.”

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t perfect. But it was the first time anyone had said anything to them at all.

And it hit him like a punch to the chest — this was what the jokes were about? This was what he’d laughed off?