Shouto Todoroki

How has he figured out so much about me? Todoroki couldn't help but wonder as Bakugou stared at him and Aizawa for a moment before entering the apartment with a few bags of groceries. It's kind of disturbing how much he's correctly assumed. Am I that bad at lying? But I can't let him know it's the truth. Even if he has to concern himself over me, I'd rather have that than tell him his suspicions are right.

Bakugou shoved the grocery bags in his arms onto the kitchen counter. "Got some stuff at the store," he commented before smudging his expression into a scowl. "Well don't just fucking stand there—make yourselves useful." He began to put away the small load of groceries he'd purchased.

I'm very lightheaded again, Todoroki realized while blindly reaching into one of the bags and extracting a carton of eggs. I don't want to be like this. I don't want the label. It's not true. He glanced up from staring at the carton of eggs, and after shaking his head, he limped over to the fridge and slid the carton inside. I couldn't even finish half of the salad. I tried not to think about it, but the sensations were awful. Too familiar. Too much. I tried so fucking hard…but I couldn't do it. I gave in, and I'm the only one to blame.

"Why are you so late?"

"I had homework I needed to complete. Sorry."

"So, some papers are worth more than me? Is that what you're trying to say? That's how fucking worthless I am?"

"No… Rui, that's not at all what I think. I don't think anyone thinks that. But if you think that way about yourself—"

Thwack!

No matter how normal it is now, it doesn't get any easier, Todoroki internally maundered. Yet, I'm not mad or upset. Despite everything he's done to me, I don't hate him. Even then, on that night…when he took everything from me, I didn't feel anything. All I felt was the physical sting and the ache that remained. Even though that fragile kingdom of glass I built shattered back to square one, I didn't hate the person that brought it down. Maybe I hated myself instead. Now, I'm back to being dependent on the physical pain I inflict on myself to feel anything at all. It's the only way I know of. It's the only thing I deserve for relapsing back into that loop again. M—

Todoroki felt something clasp onto his shoulder; he flinched at the abrupt contact and winced at the pain. "Sorry, I…" he muttered out of habit before his words were asphyxiated in his throat. "I zoned out," he finished after erasing his initial sentence.

Although Bakugou donned a fierce scowl, his eyes were malleable and melancholic. "Tch."

After the three had sorted through all the groceries, Aizawa broke the veil of awkward silence that had pooled into the room. "All right. I'll be back in a few hours for the lecture. Before then, however, I want you both to discuss what you're currently feeling and why. Try and pinpoint the feelings. 'Good,' 'okay,' and 'bad' are very broad." With that, Aizawa departed from the apartment.

Once Aizawa closed the door behind him, Todoroki expelled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. "How are you feeling right now, Bakugou?" He leaned against the kitchen counter.

The ash-blonde ran his hand through his hair and clicked his tongue. "Anxious. Stressed. Angry. Sad. Tired." He shook his head and descried Todoroki. "Too much fuckin' shit has happened too quickly. I'd rather just drink, forget, and sleep it off. But I'm trying not to drink too much, I can never forget what I want to, I can't sleep, and I can't fucking escape. Tch. Shit." His eye twitched. "The hell're you feeling, asshole?"

For at least twenty seconds, only silence ensued as Todoroki's thoughts besieged his mind. "I…don't know," he finally remarked in a husky whisper. "But I don't mind hearing your rants. And you said you 'can't escape.' I'm a little worried about that." He observed as Bakugou scrunched his brows.

"Tch…" Bakugou's hands curled into trembling fists. "How does it feel not to feel anything? Bet it beats almost anything else. Must be so fucking nice. But it's not your fucking business… Tch. You know what? If you eat something, I'll talk about it." He crossed his arms.

Todoroki's stomach churned. "Bakugou, it's not something you want. Even if things are too much sometimes, n—"

"How the hell can it not be something I want when that's all I ever fucking want anymore?" Unvarnished and lethal was Bakugou's seething utterance.

"Bakugou, I can't… I can't even care about the people and the things I love. I'm numb to it all. The people that I should love the most… I no longer care. Is that something you want? Do you want to become someone so selfish that you don't care about anyone or anything else? Where nothing matters to you, so you inevitably do the things that only benefit you? Regardless, as for your proposal, I guess I can do that."

Blatantly discountenanced by Todoroki's uncharacteristic onslaught of words, Bakugou's expression shifted to match. "Damn… Didn't even think about that. Just…so fucking sick of everything. Can't go a single fucking day without feeling like shit. It feels like I'm getting trampled in the mud. Can't breathe, can't make sense of anything. Just hurts, but I struggle anyway. Then, when life's done kicking the shit out of me, I try and escape, but it was all just a trick to give me the hope I could make it out, and it's back to suffocating. I give up, and the pain lets up. It taunts me to keep trying so I can fail again, again, again… I know, but I try anyway, knowing it's fucking useless. I blame the world for trampling me, but it's really me killing myself." His eyelids drooped low before he glanced up at Todoroki, who was biting into an apple. "Tch… I'd chastise the hell out of you, but yer keepin' to your word. Dammit. Fine.

"I can't escape from feeling so shitty whenever I'm with you. I can't escape from the past I had with you that haunts me every day. I can't escape from wanting you back and wallowing in the things I should have already accepted and moved on from. It's all too goddamn much… I'm so fucking tired of being trapped in this pathetic web of things I can't change, but the more I struggle, the more I get entangled and buried. The regrets pile up, and trying to deal with one just adds another ten to the mountain. It never fucking ends. If I stopped caring, I'd be free, but that's the one fucking thing I can't have. Is it because I'm so desperate for it that I'm not allowed to have it, and all I can do is chase after it like a fool? I want to reach it, even if it's killing me more and more just to try, and even if I know I'll die trying to get my hands around it. Fucking hell…"

Todoroki couldn't help but notice the arrant rush of deleterious emotion that flaked off of Bakugou, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Bakugou coiled his fingers against the edge of the counter. A sharp, visceral paroxysm of agony peeled away Bakugou's previous expression. Unlike the arrogant ash-blonde that Bakugou chose to display every day, the one that stood before Todoroki was trembling, hunched over the kitchen counter.

Bakugou's knuckles had been strained to a ghastly white as he slammed his fist against the counter. He almost looked as though he was driving his fist into another person, and yet, the counter was ineluctably an inanimate object. That counter, however, was soon showered in the tears that Bakugou furiously attempted to restrain. Glistening streams of silver slinked from Bakugou's fist into thin lakes coalescing into one on the countertop.

Then, in a frenetic, gravelly whisper, Bakugou uttered, "'Men don't cry…'" He paused to take in a long, shaky breath. "Then…what the hell am I? Wh-What am I…if I cry until nothing's left, and I never even know why? I don't want to, but it just happens, and every time, I just want to drink away the sorrow and forget I was pathetic enough to shed any fucking tears." He clenched his jaw, and as a transient moment of silence swallowed up the room, his fist raised up and shattered that silence upon crashing into the counter. "WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO BE IN THIS FUCKED UP WORLD IF THE ONLY STANDARDS I CAN LIVE UP TO MAKE ME A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING PIECE OF SHIT?!" An ugly, ragged sob poured from his lips. "What…do I do when…everything I try to achieve goes so fucking well…for someone else, but it falls apart whenever I try?"