Todoroki stared at the pale green tatami mats surrounding his feet. The curve of his spine pressed against the wall of his dorm, and the curve of his chin rested between his knees. His nails scraped over the myriad of dark, thin protrusions of flesh lining his left wrist; his scratching insidiously evolved into clawing at his scars until the white flakes of flesh peeling from his arms were dyed in scarlet. He dug his nails into the creases between scar and skin as though attempting to tear off his scars.

The itch that never dies, Todoroki thought to himself while his skin was seared by the crescent blades of his nails. I never thought this would be an issue when I got into cutting. But every scab itches, and every scar continues to ring with this interminable itch that just won't go away. The deeper I scratch, the better it feels. It makes the itch go away for a whi—

From the chair at Todoroki's desk, Bakugou whipped his head around and glared at Todoroki with squinted eyes. "Oi! What the hell have…" Bakugou's voice tapered off into ash as his expression shriveled up. "Babe…" The distance of the sky glazed over his eyes as he slowly approached Todoroki, whose left wrist was exposed and licked by blood.

It's been a while since this last happened, Todoroki realized while his boyfriend knelt down beside him. I have…so many new scars. When they itch, I can't help myself. I can't fight the urge to tear them apart with my nails.

For a few seconds, the room was eerily quiet. "How often…are you doing this?" Bakugou's voice was flimsy and faint like a water-damaged paper softened by numerous cycles of crumpling.

"It depends," Todoroki sighed aridly.

Bakugou's brows drooped down, and he extended his hand to ensconce Todoroki's knee with his splayed digits. "You're being pretty damn vague, Shouto…."

Will you break if I act like I hate you? Who knew this accident would evolve into an opportunity… Is it wrong of me to do this? Probably. But if he loves me, he'll forgive me, right? How toxic. It sounds like a manipulative relationship. Love seems so sweet and desirable, but it's more like a disease.

Todoroki glanced away and shifted his knees. "I don't want to talk to you," he murmured under his breath.

Slowly, Bakugou's hand retreated to his side. "Shouto, what's wrong?"

Todoroki did not reply.

Bakugou gently laid his hands atop Todoroki's knees. "Oi…"

"What if I told you…that I hate you?" Todoroki's voice was fragile as it teetered between cracking and shattering.

Immediately, Bakugou lifted his hands, and his pupils were crushed into two minuscule pebbles. He stayed his twitching eyes on Todoroki, but he did not speak.

Katsuki, don't tell me you believe me. You should know me better than anyone else. Can't you see it's all just an act? Don't you know me well enough by now?

Todoroki grit his teeth, and with the click of his tongue, he spat, "I wish that…you'd just die." He swallowed thickly. "You can't still love me…"

With a whip of motion, Bakugou gripped Todoroki's hands and shoved him down onto the floor. A deluge of arrant emotion kept his pupils burning, and it folded over itself to forge the ripples in Bakugou's shadow-soaked mien.

The ash-blonde tore back his lips, and with a grimace, he sibilated, "You idiot… ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO YOURSELF?!" The modulations in his voice fluctuated like the flame of a candle. "Thinkin' you can say this shit to my face… Shouto, of course I still love you..." His shadow writhed upon Todoroki's body beneath him. "Say you hate me and want me to die all you want…but that's what you feel, ain't it?" The tenacity binding Todoroki's hands loosened.

Todoroki didn't know how to respond. He remained silent and still, but his eyes had widened in utter shock.

"Shouto…is this how you feel about yourself?"

Is this how I…feel about myself? Don't be ridiculous. That's not it. Katsuki, you don't understand. I thought you would. But…then again, is it the hate I held and the wish for death I had that extinguished my feelings? Is that how I've really felt all this time? No. It's all wrong…

As the silence of Todoroki's dorm crawled up their spines, Bakugou lifted Todoroki from lying supine, and he pulled Todoroki into an embrace. "And even if it's not, guess what, you damn extra? I still love you the same."

"Why? Katsuki, I—"

"Whatever you wanna do to me, I couldn't care less. Beat me, stab me, cut me… Doesn't matter. It wouldn't change the fact that I fucking love you."

I can't even begin to process this. Are you even listening to yourself and how ridiculous you sound? I could become Endeavor, the person that abused me for all this time and beat the shit out of me just for fun…but you'd still love me? Why? How? It doesn't make any sense. I don't understand…

"I've never heard such a foolish thing until now." Todoroki shook his head and rested his chin on Bakugou's shoulder. "If you weren't under the influence of this love that might as well be alcohol, you would give me the hate I'm giving you. You wouldn't be trying to give your love to someone heartless. Katsuki, you do realize that you just described a toxic, potentially manipulative relationship, right? Are you okay with that?" Finally, he returned his lover's embrace.

Bakugou deftly massaged Todoroki's back with the sides of his thumbs. "No shit I'm not okay with that. But this ain't that kinda shitty relationship. I love you, dumbass. Stop making me repeat that. I know you're not the puppeteer, the evil mastermind, or whatever worthless figure you're trying to make yourself look like. That ain't you. Yeah, maybe you don't care about me, and maybe the words still fucking hurt every time I hear them, but yer not a villain to me. You are your own villain, yeah? Look at your wrists. You choose to hurt yourself instead of other people. I wish you wouldn't at all, and it's fucking painful to see the scars on your wrists, but you have a heart, Shouto. I can feel it, and I can hear it. Even though that bastard beat it to a pulp, it's still there."

I feel like I'm alone in this world where no one feels the same way as I do. I know there are probably a lot of people that feel similarly that I've never met or heard of before, though. No one really talks about feeling indifferent to everything either. Even if I were to be the only one, I wouldn't care, but I want to talk to someone that feels the same way. Not someone that understands what I mean, but someone that thinks the same way. Someone that knows what it's like to be numb to even the perpetual feeling of emptiness from the lack of feeling. Someone that can't empathize with other people.

Exhaling deeply, Todoroki sighed, "By that logic, I'm still doing the same thing. I'm hurting a person, and by that, I mean myself. I'm hurting a person with a heart of my own volition. I guess I can't become a serial killer to myself. Well, I'll give you that. Ah…" Todoroki paused for a moment. "I think I get it. I concede. But I just…don't understand how you can feel that way. To me, it seems so foolish, and especially coming from you." He nuzzled up against Bakugou like a cat rubbing against a leg.

Bakugou planted a tender kiss on Todoroki's forehead. "But I'm still right, damn extra," he cackled. "Now, let's get yer wounds treated, 'kay? Just like old times, I can patch you up in the bathroom and kiss your shitty face." He scooped Todoroki into his arms and stood up.

Todoroki nodded and softened his expression into a smile. "I'll give the shitty 'compliment' this time: I hate those sly, condescending eyes…but they're hot as hell." He plastered on a smirk, sensing the mirth that emanated from his boyfriend.

"You fucking changed like two words," Bakugou groaned. "And I said it at a good time."

"When I could see all the oil on your face from how close you were to me?"

"Shut it, asshole!"

"I know you're blushing."

"Goddammit, Shouto!"

Even if I hated you so much that I wanted to kill you, you'd still love me like this? Todoroki pondered as his smile faded. How does this not sound ridiculous? I can't wrap my head around it. Well, I guess love and hate really aren't too different from each other. But even though you say this with such conviction now, I can imagine we're going to break up at some point. We're only sixteen. So, what would you think if our relationship came to an end?