Cold | Suicidal Todoroki

31 | Monochrome

This story is not intended to promote or encourage actions/behaviors such as suicide, self-harm, abuse, violence, harassment, or substance abuse.

With a disgruntled, apoplectic roar, Bakugou bashed free from Todoroki's lethal grasp and rammed Todoroki into the wall. "YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" bellowed Bakugou as his lips peeled back as though to flaunt his gleaming fangs.

You're trying to evoke some kind of reaction from me? Todoroki pondered while feigning the flinch he forced himself to produce. It won't work. No matter what you say to me, what you do to me, or how you execute your plans, it won't affect me. Todoroki bit his lower lip.

"Endeavor was right to abuse the useless animal that you are!" Bakugou vilified, but his voice was beginning to splinter. "Y-Y'know, you deserve to have the shit beaten out of you." No longer could he stay his eyes on Todoroki.

You're hurting yourself more than you could ever hope to hurt me, Todoroki sighed to himself as he turned his head and curled in on himself a bit. Give it up.

"I thought I could—"

"I'm so fucking sorry..." Bakugou interjected his lover. "I didn't mean to actually hurt you, Shouto. I did, but... Fuck. I'm sorry..." His head slumped over Todoroki's shoulder as he embraced the latter.

Humans are such pathetic yet intelligent creatures. "It's okay," Todoroki whispered. "I forced my reactions, Katsuki. I thought you'd realize that. Regardless, you're bleeding."

"It's fine... I fucking need this right now."

"No. This time, I'm going to be the one helping you, Katsuki."

Once Todoroki had aided his boyfriend in bandaging up the wound he'd inflicted, he intertwined their lips of his own volition. Frigid love erupted into embers of ardent passion. Daring digits danced deftly across exposed flesh. Saccharine, sublime sensations sizzled slowly within the two as they waltzed atop the bedsheets.

Yet, Todoroki was not enraptured by the effervescent affection that Bakugou smothered him with. Even though his body burned from the scorching love perforating his skin, such love had gone cold upon besieging his blood. So, by the end of their blazing waltz through time together, Todoroki had not been enamored in the way that his partner had been. His eyes could see the regions of gray between matters that others would see as white or black, but his vision itself had been reduced to viewing the world in monochrome.

The last hope I had couldn't be fulfilled, Todoroki realized while pushing his arms into his shirt sleeves. This dusty, monochrome film... Even if you clean off all the dust, it doesn't erase what it's been through. The scars linger in the design. It feels like I'm an actor in a movie. This can't be reality. I'm just going by a script. That's all it is. He clasped onto Bakugou's hand before uttering his final farewell. That's why I don't love him. It's just scripted love. Even now, I guess this defense mechanism to dissociate from and deny reality is ingrained in my mind.

Upon arriving at his dorm, Todoroki promptly locked the door and approached the chair beckoning to him from the center of the room. He gravitated towards the chair while staring up at the choker of death he'd soon adorn his neck with.

They look at me with such scorn. Katsuki fell prey to his feelings, so I'd say his views on me are biased. I'm not normal. So, what is normal, and why is that what 'normal' is? I'm hated for being the person I am. They look down on me. Maybe Endeavor was right. Maybe I should've killed myself a long time ago. Maybe I'd have caused less suffering in the world. A part of me still thinks like I used to, but in the end, I still don't seem to have the capacity to care anymore.

Todoroki stepped onto the chair and curled his fingers around the dangling noose.

The world doesn't want me here. Endeavor beat me. Mom couldn't bear the sight of me. Endeavor essentially committed suicide because of me. I can't bring the old me back, but I can do what the old me would want. If my death will turn frowns into smiles and violence into peace, then let me disappear. A foolish thought, but one I had nonetheless. So, don't be sad. I did what they wanted. I did what I would've wanted. I did what Endeavor wanted. I'm fulfilling so many desires with this one fatal move.

Ducking into the noose, Todoroki peered down at the floor.

I think the old me would have preferred to take Endeavor's beatings until the end rather than causing this disaster. Was Endeavor right? Did I turn into a monster? What really separates 'good' from 'bad' and 'human' from 'monster' when some traits intermix? Intent? Behind intent is motive. A justified motive? What's 'justified,' then? I don't know. I don't particularly see anything as 'wrong' or 'right' anymore, even if I understand what's what and why. After all, those are things that people generally agree on, rather than an irrefutable and unequivocal Truth. Everyone has their own opinion. Who's to say the opinion of the majority is 'right?' Opinions and morals. Throw away morals and the like, and how different is the world?

"Today was fine," Todoroki muttered to himself. "Yesterday was fine. The day before that... I feel the same as I have for a long time. Despite that, this is all my own choice. What really happens to us when we die? What am I to the majority? What am I truly? Who am I, and who have I become? I have so many questions..."

Well, this has been an interestingly uninteresting journey. It's like a movie playing backwards. This isn't how a good movie ends. This is how one begins. By growing stronger and more efficient, I've thrown away every chance I'd been offered to have a happy ending. Why? Now, here I am, at the beginning... Unfeeling, indifferent, and cold. Let's start a new movie. From the top...

With a slow sigh, Todoroki pushed himself off the chair and allowed the noose to embrace his neck.

What a cruel, cruel movie.