Katsuki Bakugou

I see the consequences right in front of my face from him, Bakugou cogitated while entering the kitchen. Despite that, I still want to be thin like he is. I can clearly fucking see how unhealthy it is and what it's doing to him, but I can't help but want it. All because of other peoples' opinions. I never gave a shit about how I looked until people started to comment on it. That's always how it is…isn't it?

An abrupt shuffle and light thud enraptured Bakugou's attention. "Oi?" He turned around to face Todoroki. "Oi, you good?" He approached his debilitated classmate.

Todoroki nodded. "Just…lightheaded." He forced his body to stagger to the dining table, and the moment he reached a chair, he collapsed against it and huffed.

With a sigh, Bakugou yanked open the fridge; a sticky slap struck the air. "'Cuz you don't eat. You seriously need some help with that since yer not getting better. And why are you always trying to help me when your problems are so much worse?" He plucked a small carton of strawberry milk from the fridge and tossed it to Todoroki.

Todoroki kept his eyes fixed on the floor as his trembling fingers pried open the milk carton. "It's fine. I don't need help." He took a brief sip of the milk.

"Bullshit. You clearly have an eating disorder. And don't just ignore my question."

"Are you qualified to diagnose me? But I do want to help you. I don't need any help."

This fucker really gets on my nerves. 'I don't need help.' 'I'm fine.' 'Nothing's wrong with me.' If that's true for someone who's suicidal, self-injurious, and is actively starving himself, my problems don't mean a single goddamn thing. They're as significant as dust in the wind. They might as well not exist, but they're killing me, so what the hell am I supposed to do?

"No, but you choose to starve yourself, and that ain't normal. And you really think you don't need help? Listen, fuck that. I dunno why you think that, but it's a load of bullshit. What if I said I wouldn't get help until you got help?" Bakugou cocked his brow and crossed his arms.

"Don't."

"I will."

"Kat—"

"Why are you so damn adamant about not needing help?"

Todoroki swallowed down a thick lump of strawberry milk. "I don't want to talk—"

"No shit," muttered the ash-blonde. "But that's another reason why you need to." He flicked his gaze to Todoroki's hands. "Doesn't need to be immediate. But there is no way in hell I'm gonna accept getting help before you. You're so fucking thin. You get hurt basically every day. You cut yourself. You won't eat. You won't say shit. You deny everything. You lie all the goddamn time. You need help. Just admit it."

You knew you needed help before, and now, when you're worse off than ever, you say you don't need it. Why?

"I'm not admitting what isn't true," Todoroki replied with unwavering stoicism. "I'm tired. I want to sleep."

"Katsuki? Remember how I used to be too busy to hang out or go on dates most of the time? I… It wasn't because I was busy. It was because I couldn't get out of bed."

Bakugou felt something in his chest deflate as a coruscating epiphany split his skull. "Oi… You still takin' your meds?"

Todoroki nodded. "Why?"

"Lemme see the bottle."

"Why?"

"So I know if you're lying or not."

"I don't have it."

"So you're lying again?"

Although Bakugou anticipated that Todoroki would glance away, he held his gaze steady. "No. I didn't bring it because I was running low. I figured I could pick up more here, but I haven't felt like going to the store." His steely eyes were like the unmoving eyes of a doll.

Bullshit. So, you chose to stop taking your meds. Why? Why, Shouto? I know you didn't forget, and I know you can afford them.

"Was it that much of a chore to grab a bottle?" Bakugou squinted his eyes. "But you told me they helped with the suicidal thoughts and made you feel better overall. Why would… Why the hell would you stop taking them? You need to get back on them."

Todoroki expelled a sigh. "I didn't feel like taking it in case anyone saw them. I feel the same, so I think it's fine. It's one less chore. But I'd like to sleep now, unless you need me for something." With a ghastly mien, he stood up and hobbled towards the trash bin in the kitchen.

"You need to eat something. Ain't that what you said you wanted?"

Nodding slowly, Todoroki leaned up against the kitchen counter. "I think I'll be fine, though."

Bakugou's hands crunched into fists. "Oh, hell no," he spat with rancor. "Shouto, how can you not see all the glaring signs you have of an eating disorder? Or are you just denying it 'cuz you don't wanna accept that it's true?" He folded his hand over Todoroki's, which was flat against the counter.

"I'm not trying to lose weight."

"So binge eating disorders don't exist?"

"That's not what I said."

You don't even understand how shitty I feel. I'd fucking love to pretend like I don't have an eating disorder! I hate it. When I found out you cheated on me, I ate so much more to try and deal with the pain and the anger. But I always felt so guilty, and it all ended the same. I felt like I had no control over myself. Tch. Even less control than normal. I'm so fucking ashamed of it. I feel so weak because of it. I feel so alone and pathetic. So for you to feel none of that and actively deny having the thing that makes me feel so shitty every single day…

With a clenched jaw, Bakugou grumbled, "You don't need to be trying to lose weight to have an eating disorder. Fact of the matter is that you're literally fucking starving yourself." He loosened his tight grip on Todoroki's hand.

Todoroki let out a sigh. "And you don't need help for doing the same thing?"

Just shut the fuck up…

Bakugou's guts began to boil in something thick and sour. "You're the one who's suicidal."

"Aren't we both choosing to kill ourselves slowly?"

Bakugou growled, "Just admit it, Shouto."

"I can tell I'm pissing you off. So, fine. You're right. I have an eating disorder." Aloof and unenthused, Todoroki's pupils remained on Bakugou. "I'm going to sleep. I don't have the energy for this." With that, he shambled towards his room, leaving Bakugou's hand on the countertop.

Bakugou could only watch as his lover disappeared into the click of a door closing. I hate you, Shouto. I hate you. You have everything I want, even though you've gotten most things through shitty ways. Then you act like none of your life-threatening problems exist while trying to help everyone around you. You're still cheating on me. I know that so goddamn well. Call me a fucking hypocrite. Just another reason why I fucking hate myself more than I could possibly hate you. You don't give a shit about anything, and that's what I've wanted for so long. I don't want to care so much about what people think of me. I don't want to feel these shitty fucking feelings because I care about things. I'm so fucking tired of this, Shouto! And yet…even though you're so much worse off than I am, you just keep living. Why?

A part of me just wants you to fucking die, then. Why are you so strong? Why am I not? Why can you live with problems so much worse than mine and keep going like they don't exist? Why am I so caught up in my problems that I feel like breaking and admitting defeat early because of them? Why? I don't want you to die at all, but I'm so fucking jealous of how strong you are. Why you? Why couldn't I have gotten just a sliver of that? Why are you so lucky? Why are you so special? Why are you such a good person when you don't even fucking care? Why?

Shaking his head, Bakugou returned to his room and crawled into bed. But I also love you. I hate that I still love you. I hate that I couldn't and can't let go. Why did I plead to get together with someone who's still cheating on me? He did this all to me. Despite that, I'm still wrapped around his pretty fucking finger. I'm doing exactly what he's doing, which is what I'm mad at him for: denying the truth. I'm the shitty person here. But I just can't admit that to his pretty, cheating face. His pretty face that hides how much shit he's going through. Did I make things worse for him, and he didn't wanna tell me that, so he cheated on me? Why? Why did you cheat on me? Why can't you tell me? It fucking kills me, Shouto. I know that's not like you, and yet, here we are. So, why? Why did you leave me? Why did you leave us? Why did you fucking break me with a smile on your face, Shouto?