Shouto Todoroki

Everything hurts so much, was all Todoroki could think as he slowly ate the omelet Bakugou had prepared for him. Everything's blurry. Nothing feels real. I almost feel like I'm going insane. I knew Rui would be pissed.

"You're late again. And what is that ugly thing in your nose?"

"I ran into a few people along the way. And this is a feeding tube. I didn't want it, but the staff were concerned about me."

"How miserable you must be to have people that care about you. Everyone that's said they care about me has stabbed me in the back or turned out to be a manipulator. I got sick of getting used, you know? But now I get why they used me: it feels good to have complete control over someone."

Lifting his head to take a sip of water, Todoroki glanced over at Bakugou, who sat opposite him at the dining table fit for two. "Bakugou—" he uttered in a horse whisper before his voice was rent by a familiar, ashen voice:

"Don't wanna hear it," hissed Bakugou with vitriol. "I'm ashamed enough. I don't need you reminding me." His brows lowered.

Todoroki let out a sigh and unconsciously eyed the thin ripples of water swishing at the surface of his glass. "It doesn't seem like you plan on fixing it without some help. I don't know how you feel, even if I understand why you feel what you do, and I know you don't want to hear this again, but you don't want to be like this. Wouldn't it be more embarrassing to faint in front of all those eyes? To fail a mission because of it? To eventually be pitied because—"

Bakugou bashed the bottom of his fist against the table with a clunk and the click of silverware jumping. "Shut up… Every fucking time I look at you, I feel a burning twinge of envy. I know the consequences, but…"

I'm starting to wonder if I really care anymore, Todoroki realized while Bakugou glared at the glossy sheen of the table with flickering brows. I feel like I'm just subconsciously telling myself I care. I don't know. Ever since that, I don't know anything anymore. Nothing makes sense. Everything is contradictory.

"Isn't that a sign in itself you—"

"Shut it!"

Todoroki felt his body drop into a boiling pit of needles.

"Shut the fuck up!" snarled Rui before jabbing his elbow into Todoroki's abdomen. "You're getting it this time!"

Pushing down the bile searing the back of his throat, Todoroki continued, murmuring, "You can't ignore and deny everything you don't want to believe or accept. Do you want to talk about it?" He waited in silence, half-expecting Bakugou to stand up and walk away, but Bakugou had closed his eyes and grit his teeth. "Bakugou, I don't want you to go down this path…"

"Really?" snapped the ash-blonde, who shook his head and slowly drew open his crimson eyes. "Did you think I forgot about how you said you don't fucking care about even the people you love? You say all this shit, and here you are pitying me when I KNOW YOU DON'T FUCKING CARE!" With a thrawn, crinkled expression, Bakugou gnashed his teeth together. "Know what? Come here, you sick fuck." Derision razed his mien in the shape of translucent streaks.

Sure, you can hit me. I did say you could. It doesn't matter to me anymore. I'm already broken beyond repair. All because of him. I don't care if you want to beat me like him until I'm dead, violate me until my voice is gone, or make me obey you like a servant with a bomb linked to its neck. I don't belong to myself. I'm just property.

Without a word, Todoroki rose from his seat and approached Bakugou, who stood up as well. He sieved Bakugou's white-crested fists and hefty chest movements, but he did not stray from his position. His eyes shifted to Bakugou's pin-sized pupils, which were pointed at the floor like scarlet spears.

Then, Bakugou lifted his quaking, apoplectic fist. The bluish-purple veins snaking through his glistening flesh bulged out like fat worms. Yet, once his fist raised above his hip, it hit an invisible barrier. Like a hovering eagle with no wings, Bakugou's fist remained still in the air, primed for attack.

Caught in the vice of Bakugou's incandescent, unspoken emotions, Todoroki leaned forward and enveloped Bakugou into an embrace. For a while, the two remained like that—a breathing ice sculpture of silence and fury. They spoke only with the sound of their breaths, and the faint ticks of their hearts.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" roared Higoro with scalding vehemence. "Look at you squirm. Doesn't it fucking hurt? That's just a taste of what my pain really feels like!"

Stop, Todoroki wanted to scream as Higoro's nails drilled into the raw, open wounds on his shoulders. Fuck, it hurts! Fuck!

"Still not willing to spill your boyfriend's relationship history? Don't make me get the broken glass."

I don't care anymore… I'm not saying. Do whatever you want…

Splitting the silence with a fiery fluid in his voice, Bakugou uttered, "I can't…" He dropped and unraveled his fist. "Why's it always like this? I hurt you, and you never get mad at me. You just comfort me and try to help." He exhaled slowly. "It's not okay… You just let me get away with hurting you. I feel so fucking guilty every time… I act without thinking, and then I realize as I'm hurting you how much I've hurt you, and how I'll be contributing to it, but by then, it's too late. I hate being wrong, but I never fucking know what's right and wrong anymore…"

Todoroki felt something warm rest against his shoulder. "It's fine. I'm not saying that just to say it for your sake. You're able to recognize your flaws, and I can tell you do want to change, but only you can make that change." He listened to Bakugou's deep inhalation. "But when was the last time you ate?"

"Every time I've tried to change, I've just felt worse. And I ate this morning, earlier. Had to see Aizawa like three hours ago."

"I think that's from some unresolved, deeper issues. I know how difficult it is to change, and I know just eating more won't solve the problem." Todoroki gently lowered his chin to Bakugou's trembling shoulder. "But I know you're lying."

A faint layer of enmity varnished over Bakugou's voice as he sibilated, "Why even is it that you stopped eating when you claim that you don't wanna be this way? Because it just feels like a fucking middle finger to me." His hot breaths soaked into Todoroki's flesh like the steam fleeing from a fresh winter carcass. "You do the same things I do, but not because you hate your body and reflection? Not because you hate that you can't live up to what everyone wants you to be? Not because you feel so fucking guilty and just so shitty for eating anything at all? Not because you're so fucking consumed by some shitty, impossible goal that you know is irrational, but you just can't escape from it?

"All I can ever think when I see my reflection is: 'why isn't it enough?' 'When is it enough?' 'Will it ever be enough?' 'Is it even enough for me?' 'Why can't this be enough when I've done so much?' 'What the fuck do I have to do for it to be enough?!' It kills me. It makes me want to tear myself apart and just break down. I don't have to do all this shit to myself that makes me feel like shit, but I can't help it… Even when I do it all, it barely helps, and I feel so much worse, but it's an endless fucking cycle. All because I was so weak that I let those fucking comments get to me… I did this all to myself…" Bakugou inhaled sharply. "And yet, here you are…"

The weight of Bakugou's words was a noose around Todoroki's neck. "You're right that I don't do it for any of those reasons, and I don't feel that way like you do. What you're experiencing is something I can't even imagine, Bakugou. Hearing it isn't even a fraction of the pain of experiencing it. But I'm not like this to try and hurt you in any way." He nodded unhurriedly. "I'm still not ready to talk about why, and I don't know if I'll ever be ready, but eating makes me feel like I'm reliving some things I never want to remember. The thought of enjoying food makes me think I'm enjoying…those things. I'm sorry if it feels like I'm doing this because you opened up to me. That's not it at all, Bakugou."

I'm not sorry at all. That's not my problem. You chose to see it that way.

Scorched, wry mirth cracked from Bakugou's throat as he sighed, "Y'know, that's the last thing I wanted to hear… That you actually have a reason. I knew you did, but…" He clicked his tongue and pushed away from Todoroki's arms. "Teach's probably gonna be over soon. I'll eat when I start feelin' hungry again." His scarlet eyes that drooped with ashen pockets glided to the floor. "Oi… Thanks for always bein' here. I… Tch. Sorry…for hurting you all this time. Physically and mentally. Grabbing yer wrists, mocking all your problems and reminding you about them, blaming you for everything and always screaming at you, comparing us, just…everything. It doesn't fix the shit I've done, but yer right that only I can make the changes I wanna see. So, I'll do that…" Bakugou plastered on a smirk. "Then, you owe me. Heh. Kidding."

Todoroki mustered up a smile. "You really are soft, deep down."

Bakugou's expression twisted into a pink scowl. "Shut it. I'm doin' it for myself."

"Is what you tell yourself."

"You really think I'd do this shit for a bastard like you? As if."

"You treated this bastard like a prince when he was sick, so I wouldn't—"

"Forget about that shit! I just—"

A knock arrived at the apartment door. Both Todoroki and Bakugou glanced at the entrance, then at each other, and then back at the door. However, only Bakugou made the advance and proceeded to the door to allow the expected visitor inside.

"Morning," Aizawa greeted Bakugou and Todoroki. "Finish eating, and we'll start the lesson." He walked over to the living area and set his black bag on the floor with a thud.

With that, Todoroki and Bakugou received their daily lecture and homework assignments. However, before Aizawa left, he approached Todoroki and inquired as to whether or not he could speak with him.