Shouto Todoroki

Didn't I tell you I never wanted to leave you? Todoroki wondered. You're not acting like yourself. I've told you all these things that go against the things you're saying. You were always the one telling me: 'Didn't I tell you this?' I feel like an experiment before I feel human.

"I think you already know the answer, but it wasn't at all the reason why," sibilated Todoroki. "I promise I'll tell you the truth, but just be yourself, Katsuki." He proceeded to guide himself to his room with the wall as his crutch.

The way he hit me isn't at all like how Rui hits me, but the anger behind their blows is raw anger. Rui… I try to talk to him about what he's doing to me, but I end up with another beating every time. Even so, I still want to know what he's thinking and feeling. What's the complete story that led him down this path?

Rui? Todoroki pondered while limping in the direction of a familiar voice. Is he crying? Oh.

"Are you okay, Rui?"

"Why are you here?"

"I was awake and heard you."

"So you came to see my misery?"

"No. I came to be here for you." Todoroki wrapped his arms around Rui. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Okay."

"Don't let go of me."

Surely, it must hurt when you know I don't love you at all.

"It's fine if you want to cry."

"The last person to tell me that left me because I cried over something 'stupid,' and she didn't want to be associated with a person like that. I thought she might have felt the same at some point… It really was stupid to cry over the thought of waking up the next day."

"I don't think it was stupid. What made that thought so unbearable?"

"Are you asking to exploit my weaknesses and blackmail me out of this? Not another word out of you."

Todoroki rubbed his knuckles against his temple, and with a sigh, he insinuated himself into his futon. "What a headache…" he murmured under his breath. "Everything feels like a headache." He buried his face into his pillow.

Making up different lies for different people but always making sure I don't forget about each one, and always ensuring that I follow through with each lie. Listening to everyone's concerns over me and trying to be evasive but not too evasive. Bearing the weight of life in general. I just want to sleep off all these problems. But no matter how many times I sleep or how much sleep I get, the abuse doesn't stop, the open wounds won't magically stitch back together, and the scars itch all the same. No matter how many times I tell myself that I'll feel more up to it tomorrow, it's so much easier not to care.

Everyone has been commenting on how much weight I've lost, but I'm trying to change, even though I need professional help to truly get out of this hell. But I'm fine with being here. I'm fine with being the way I am. I'd rather be hospitalized and forced into getting help before I'd consider getting help on my own. I know Endeavor isn't happy about how I've essentially let all his years of training disintegrate. Isn't it ironic how I wanted to change when my problems weren't as dire, but now, when I dangle between life and death on the cliff of reality, I don't care?

Todoroki placed his hand on the depression in his abdomen. The soft glow of warmth from his body licked his hand, but that steady veil of warmth was trampled by the dull thuds tapping against his flesh from the inside. The tips of his frail fingers slipped away from the surface of his shirt, and as they crawled to his futon, Todoroki anchored all of his weight against his hand.

With an aching, trembling wrist that threatened to snap, Todoroki forced himself upright. He stared at the pale green tatami mats lining his floor for a moment before lurching onto his feet. Instinctively outstretching his arms as the floor teetered beneath him, Todoroki was met with a blinding incision of cold tingling through his skull; the sharp pain flashed into existence like lightning, and then, in a wave, it promptly evanesced, but this cycle of death and rebirth plagued his head sporadically.

Suddenly, Todoroki's vision was glazed over with a grainy film of white. The eyes of his equilibrium darted back and forth as he staggered into his breath. Unable to staunch what felt to Todoroki like the blood in his head clotting into needles and swiftly diving out of his body, he found himself crumpling into the embrace of gravity.

When Todoroki split apart his eyelids, he caught the motion of his door sliding open. A pair of feet frantically stumbled towards him, and it was then that Todoroki blinked and jolted back into a burning flash of clarity. Liquidized ringing resounded in his ears, but the pitches gradually faded into the sharp, crisp waves he was used to.

"Oi…" Bakugou's voice finally sank into Todoroki's brain. "Oi! Shouto!" He waved his hand back and forth.

Todoroki inhaled deeply. "I'm fine, Katsuki," he sighed, but the throbbing of his head begged to differ. "How long ago…did I fall?"

Why do you suddenly care so much about me? Does one label really change your entire way of thinking? I guess you could just be trying to treat me like you used to. Katsuki, things will never be the same, no matter how much you want them to be. I know you still hate me.

"Maybe two minutes max. But you're not fine. You could've hit your head, dammit! What even happened?" Bakugou scanned Todoroki up and down.

"I felt lightheaded," Todoroki mumbled, slowly lifting himself up to his feet with Bakugou's aid. "I think the better question is why you suddenly care."

Bakugou squinted his eyes. "I'm not 'suddenly' caring. Y'know, I wanted to destroy the part of me that still cared about you after what you did, but no matter how much I've just wanted to hate you with every fiber of my being, I can't. It was killing me to love you because I hated you, but it was killing me to hate you because I loved you. Wanted to turn the love into hatred so I could move on, and when I couldn't have that…"

"You started drinking more?" Todoroki surmised.

With the click of his tongue, Bakugou nodded. "You don't know just how much of a mess I was without it. I don't wanna talk about it, but it was ugly. Tch. Am I pathetic for wanting to be with you still?"

Todoroki let out a sigh. "I can't stop you, but just know that if you keep trying to fill a watering can with a hole in it, you and your flowers will die before you ever manage to fill it up. If you keep trying to rebuild a broken bridge without the tools and supplies for it, you'll soon have broken it beyond repair while drowning yourself in the process. If you keep sticking a bandage over a wound that you know needs stitches, you'll just kill yourself slowly." He glanced at the door. "But I just…want to eat something and take a nap."

"Are you referring to me or you with the analogies? Based on that, what you're getting at completely changes."

"I think they work both ways, but whichever you think."

Bakugou rolled his eyes. "Whatever. But…you wanna eat something?" he queried with raised brows, and to this, Todoroki nodded. "'Kay…" His raised pitch gradually tapered into embers of skepticism as he slinked towards the kitchen.

Following suit, Todoroki managed roughly twelve steps before faltering against the wall with long, heavy breaths. He sank to the floor, panting from instability and fatigue. His head sizzled, blurring his vision into distorted grains.

Just standing makes me feel faint. Todoroki attempted to stand again. I'm so lightheaded. I don't like how it draws attention to me. But I'm trapped here. I can't help but constantly wonder if it would've been better to have died back then. Back then…there was still a part of me that wanted to live.