Shouto Todoroki

Scrupulously examining his reflection, Todoroki pushed a waterfall of air from his lungs and rested his head against the counter in front of him. "I lost weight," he sibilated to himself as though his reflection would converse with him. "I know I did. I don't need to be like this right now. Not again… I'm not like that anymore. I got over that… I'm not. I just want to be strong to live up to my expectations, so, why?" He exhaled slowly and pulled himself upright. "I'm fine." He stared into the onyx abysses that stared back at him. "You're fine."

"We're fine," his reflection affirmed.

Two reflections. One mirror. One staring in. One staring out. One mirror. Two people. One mirror. One truth. One lie. One mirror. Two truths. One mirror. One reflection. One person. One truth. One mirror.

Todoroki whirled around from the mirror, changed out of his uniform, and slinked off to his futon. With eyes clamped shut as he insinuated himself into his physical reverie, he began to scratch at the undying itch plaguing his left arm. His past wounds had healed, but the scars resided inextricably within both his memories and flesh.

I'll take a nap, Todoroki told himself. I hate waking up. I wake up, and I wonder if something has changed, but it's all the same. Yet, if everything suddenly changed one day, that would be my breaking point. Shatter my indifference, and it's back to those days of purgatory all over again. How can it be that I'm always exhausted when all I really do is sleep all day? It feels like I'm scraping at myself from the inside, but the person I show everyone else couldn't possibly be the abhorrent person I've spurned and locked away. He exhaled into the tranquility of the night ambience as exhaustion steeped his body. Because…I can't possibly be feeling like that. I'm fine. Yet, it feels like my indifference is what's keeping me from falling apart. Without the seams of indifference holding me together…

Subjugated by his repose, Todoroki surrendered to the alluring wake of slumber. Yet, as swiftly as the grandeur of sleep had arrived, it was splintered by the cacophonous melody of what Todoroki could only deduce was a fist bashing against his door. Such abrupt, perfect dissonance caused him to dither before unconsciously shoving himself out of his futon.

Upon unlocking his door, Todoroki was met with a familiar ash-blonde. "What?" sighed Todoroki while he rubbed his eyes.

Bakugou clicked his tongue. "You look like shit."

"Thanks." Todoroki began to close the door, but his action was sundered once Bakugou wedged his digits between the door and frame. "What?" He reluctantly slid his door open and gestured for Bakugou to enter the room.

"What really happened?" inquired Bakugou in a husky voice.

Shaking his head, Todoroki nudged the door back into place and stood beside Bakugou. "Nothing."

"Yeah, right."

"Right."

"You changed into a new uniform."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because."

Bakugou contorted his visage to squeeze out a scowl. "Fuck your laconic ass," he hissed with vexed venom lacing his words. "I let you off the hook. I ain't blind, Icyhot." He paused while awaiting Todoroki's response, but the only response he received was silence. "I know you were injured. You were bleeding through your uniform, and you kept leaving for the bathroom. Lemme see the wound."

Why? So I can be indebted to you for something? You wouldn't do something for me out of kindness. You'd do something for personal gain. What do you want from me?

"No," Todoroki muttered while unknowingly cupping his left shoulder.

With scrunched brows and narrowed eyes, Bakugou spat, "And why not?"

"Because."

My heart is starting to pound. My palms are sweaty and hot. I'm shaking. I feel like I can't breathe. What a pitiful quandary.

"Can you not say more than one word?!"

Todoroki flinched and turned his gaze to the floor. "I…" He felt as though the blood in his body had filtered into his forehead and begun to undulate and pulsate with hot, oozing pressure. "It's… I…" He shook his head and dug his nails into his shoulder.

I fucked it up. I can't speak. I know what I want to say, but the words won't come out. I can't. I've made a fool out of myself again. I wasn't even speaking loud enough. I'm trying my best, but even my best isn't enough. Why? Why does it always come down to this?

"Oi." Like a placid pond set aflame by the coruscating sun, Bakugou's voice was tender yet stern. "Don't be stressin'. Take a deep breath."

Todoroki nodded and did as instructed. "Sorry," he finally whispered under his trembling breath.

"Don't be," Bakugou sighed in a gruff growl. "Look, I just wanna see what you're dealin' with."

"It doesn't matter," Todoroki promptly retorted. "Just leave. I'm fine."

You're so fucking worthless. You're an embarrassment. You think that walking and getting up every day is too tiring? You're just lazy. You're absolutely fine. That's nothing compared to others' issues. You should be ashamed of yourself for falling apart over such nugatory things. Punish yourself for your mistakes. Go cut yourself. Now.

"I ain't leaving with that goddamn attitude." Bakugou stepped closer to Todoroki. "Why are you resisting this so much? It's just a fucking wound." He extended his hand to his classmate, but Todoroki swiftly reeled back.

"Don't touch me," asseverated Todoroki, who stumbled backwards and backed himself against the wall.