Shouto Todoroki

If I was the reason for someone else to live, would I still go through with ending it all? Todoroki suddenly wondered. If my decision to take my life would be the reason for someone else to do the same, would I still do it? If I truly felt that I was loved by someone, would I still have these thoughts?

"N… Tch. Maybe," Bakugou furrowed his brows through his evident vacillation.

The ominous grin lingering on Todoroki's lips steadily melted back into his neutral expression. "The truth isn't worth anyone's time. Just…daft. You'd probably laugh." A somber chuckle trickled from his lips.

Bakugou tore open the pocky package and offered one to Todoroki. "Doesn't mean I will. Oi. You feelin' better, or what?"

Todoroki nodded while slowly chewing the chocolate-covered biscuit he'd taken a bite out of. "All right. I'll think about telling you the truth one day." He firmly planted his palms against the floor and pushed himself upright. "I'm fine. Don't feel obligated to do anything for me."

It really does just make me want to die, Bakugou. But I can't tell you that. I'm almost excited about my plans. It's only a matter of weeks before I can escape. Damn. I still get very lightheaded if I make abrupt, fast movements. Weak.

"Easy, easy," Bakugou groaned while outstretching his arm behind Todoroki's back. "Goddammit, you Icyhot bastard. You're not fine. You just… You just cut all over yourself. You call that fine? Oi! No, you're not fucking getting up yet. And don't fucking tell me what to do!" He pointed to the floor.

"I do call this 'fine.'"

"It's not 'fine,' Icyhot!"

"We have antithetical opinions."

Once Todoroki laid his head against the towel on the floor again, Bakugou grumbled, "Maybe my opinion will change if you tell me something about yourself since I don't know jack shit." He offered Todoroki the juice pouch again.

"Fine. I'm sure you noticed how out of line that smile I reacted with was, right?" He sipped from the juice pouch while Bakugou nodded. "The only thing I ever feel is indifference towards everything. No matter what happens, it all feels the same."

"Is that why your dumb ass decided to start cutting?" Bakugou inquired with dubiety varnishing over his voice.

Why…won't the words come out? I'm talking. I am. I just…can't say it. I don't know how, but the words are all here. It's not even 'words' because it's just a simple 'yeah.' Otherwise, how do I say I want to disappear? I don't, and that's that. I really am just a fuck-up.

Todoroki nodded hesitantly, and Bakugou replied, "Do you think you fucking deserve to suffer through that?" He visibly swallowed at Todoroki's shrug. "You don't. No one deserves this. You're punishing yourself enough if you've gone this far. I don't care if you feel indifferent. Icyhot, you're still only human. The fact that all this is going on means there's deeper shit you're struggling with, whether you wanna admit that or not. You have the fucking right to be happy. Even an idiot like you knows that, right?"

Such inanity. I don't have that right, Bakugou. I've gotten so used to faking all my reactions to react the 'right' way. I do it unconsciously. I don't feel anything beneath that. But I've done it so much that I sometimes can't even tell if my own reactions are genuine or not. I swing back and forth with faking reactions and just being my normal self, but…I've generalized and mixed everything. The fake reactions feel so normal that they almost feel real, but I know they're fake, and yet, I can't help but wonder if they aren't.

It's like I've convinced myself that I can feel the things I've trained myself to unconsciously express to do things the 'right way' or 'normal way.' Maybe the other way around. Maybe I've convinced myself that I feel nothing because I got so sick of being sad and hate-filled, but I really do feel the things I react with. But since it's all so normal, everything ultimately feels the same. It's all just a labyrinth of lies. The truth sometimes looks like a lie, and the lie a truth. I don't know anymore. How fucking pathetic. Yet another thing I—

"You with me?" the gravelly, zephyr-like words of the ash-blonde scraped through Todoroki's inner entropy. "Is this how you wanna feel? Indifferent? What's it feel like to you, huh?" His imperial eyes of vermillion met with Todoroki's eyes.

Do you really want to hear my story? Todoroki pondered while silence swallowed up the room. I don't want to burden people with it. I don't want it to be turned against me. I don't want to attract attention from it. I am indebted to him. Am I really? I wouldn't have complained if I ended up bleeding out. Instead, I'm forced to breathe the air that asphyxiates me.

Todoroki shrugged. "Why is it that my indifference is both my chair and my noose?"