4 - 4:00 am

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**4 Months Later**

Todoroki's POV:

It had been awhile since my attempt. I hadn't really talked to Bakugo since, and he hadn't mentioned it. He had stopped yelling at me so much, so that was good I guess.

I was doing slightly better, but still dealing with Endeavor. I was still skipping sleep, and I hadn't eaten much in awhile. It wasn't that I didn't want to eat, I just didn't have the energy.

I was still doing well in my classes, but I knew I was slowly falling behind. My grade was being kept up mostly because of training. Even though I was tired and weak, training under those conditions was normal. I relied on adrenaline to keep me going most of the time.

And now I was here. Laying in my room at three in the morning, my thoughts keeping me awake. I hated that I couldn't sleep, but at least I hadn't cut at all. The scars from my attempt were faded, but they were still noticably there.

I still have to look at them though

I rolled my sleeve up and ran my fingers over the faded lines.

Every damn day...

I rolled over in my bed, pulling the blanket over my head entirely. I suddenly got the urge to sob. I didn't know why. I was just sad.

I'm so weak...

I wish I was stronger

But then again, if I were stronger

I'd only have more to deal with from Endeavor

It's a lose-lose situation

Either I'm weak and he's constantly harassing me

Or I'm stronger and he's constantly harassing me

It's a trap...

I'm stuck.

I felt my eyes tearing up, but I didn't dare to let a single tear fall. I clenched my fist until my knuckles turned white, and gritted my teeth. Eventually a few tears fell on their own, one after the other. I screamed internally at my mind to try and make the thoughts stop, but they never did. I knew they wouldn't.

I stood up and began frantically pacing around the room.

Damnit...

I hate this.

I felt my breathing speed up thinking about what would happen if Endeavor knew what I was doing right now.

Weakling...

Stop fucking crying...

Stop panicking...

You're shaking, stop....

No matter how much I told myself I calm down, I couldn't do it. Subconsciously walking over to my nightstand, I opened the drawer, only to remember that Bakugo had taken my blades. So instead of finding blades, I found a small piece of paper with a phone number written on it. The ink was smeared from tears, showing the countless times I had opened this drawer in hopes of finding blades. I had never called him like he asked me to. I didn't want anyone to worry about me, and I never understood why he cared anyways.

I pondered it for a moment, then closed the drawer.

I shouldn't bother him.

He'd probably just laugh and tell me to fuck off.

Or not...

He did help me that day I guess...

But still...

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