But he wouldn't budge, averting his eyes as the headmaster not so subtly grew impatient. "Kid, you sure you don't want to talk? It would help us to understand you better."
He still didn't talk so Nezu scratched his forehead and continued, "I can get one of your teachers if that helps? I understand you don't know me very well."
Bakugo traced his palms, only looking back at the other when a chair scraped. He left the student on his own and a sigh left, scratching his back as he wondered which teacher was on his way. Bet it's dadzawa. Most likely it would be his homeroom teacher. 
After a few more minutes, the silence ceased with a squeaking door and he wasnt prepared to see Present Mic, his other teacher. The man gave a smile but it didn't make him feel any more comfortable. This was likely how the villains felt during interrogations, it sucked.
Things became increasingly strange when a clipboard of paper was placed on his lap, ordered by his teacher to write down the events that took place. With a pen, he began to write just so the teachers could get off his back. It was easier than talking about it for him so there he went, finishing lines that explained the trigger. When he got to the point with Nezu intervening, he decided to finish the narrative there and handed the clipboard back to Mic. 
"Thank you listener! It's sometimes easier to just write it all out. I'll go and give it to the others, okay?"
"Alright." 
He returned to Bakugo with Nezu and the shorter man cleared his throat. "We will have to send a phone call home explaining what happened. One of your parents can pick you up now and we'll get back on our decision." 
He was tempted to slam his head into the desk and join Monoma in RG's office but it couldn't be prevented, without a clue on how he'll deal with his parents. He lazily stared at the ceiling whilst he tried to ignore the conversation taking place a few feet away. 
"...Thank you, oh? A flat tyre eh? I'm sure we can drive him there, no worries." 
Who would be driving him? What happened? Bakugo's extreme confusion told Nezu he needed to explain.
"I called and your dad picked up but the car has a flat tyre so he won't be able to pick you up, luckily we have a teacher who can instead."
How embarrassing. Who would the teacher be? 
Out of all that happened, he least expected his grumpy and monotonous teacher to have a bright silver car with pop music set to play. Neither spoke on the journey and Bakugo couldn't be more grateful, it saved some of his dignity. As he stepped onto his driveway, he waited behind Aizawa who knocked a few times. Bakugo's dad opened the door and politely greeted the teacher he'd met before, this was the chance for the blonde to slide inside and prepare himself for afterwards -- his parents would be pissed off to say the least. 
The door shut and Bakugo almost let a cuss word slip, barely keeping it in his thoughts. His father joined him him on the couch and crossed his arms. "What's going on? Beating up another kid? I thought those bullying days were over, oh God." He croaked.
"What?! No, it's nothing like that. The little shit wouldn't fuck off."
"What have we taught you? We must look like terrible parents, terrible." He sunk into the palms of his hands. 
"It's not always about you."
"They always blame the parents. Didn't you even think of how we would feel?" 
Masaru always knew how to evoke the loveliest of ideas, with seeing how others view him as detrimental. But you have to take what you can, so Bakugo wasn't too upset, focusing on the next conversation he would be having.
Less than twenty minutes later...
"Have you truly lost it?!" His mother screamed, storming around the living room. The other adult wasn't in sight, even he knew to stay away from that uncaged beast. She expected a reply, "Katsuki! Talk to me right now."
"What? I don't know what you want me to say."
"You just punched a poor kid and expect us not to care? I knew you were stupid but this is playing with us. Are we all a game to you? You've always had issues, why couldn't you be like Inko's kid? She never has to deal with this." 
She kneeled down and slapped him across the face. 
"Mum--." He flinched back. 
"Get out of my face and go to your room, think of the shit you did."
Bakugo hurried up the stairs, undoubtedly hearing the last of her sentence: "ungrateful brat". 
He curled under the covers, blinking a few times and hitching in his breath as he began to cry, finally, he could let out something. The feeling was gross but he needed this, for so long he needed this. His parents may hate his existence right now but it should get better in time. For now, he would continue to cry his torn, little heart out.