PHOENIX: A Pro Hero Toya Todoroki AU

Chapter 74: Alone (December ???, 2129)

Warning! This chapter contains sexually explicit content/sexual coping mechanisms. Some themes regarding hypersexuality/sex as an escape. Reader discretion is advised. This one is kinda dark and may be uncomfortable for some readers. Also contains intrusive thoughts and some other material that may be triggering or intense (Toya's earlier thoughts of s*icide/self h*rm, issues with food, etc.).

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Alone. I'm alone. And yet, I'm not. Maybe I deserve to be alone. Banished. Abandoned. Forgotten. Thrown into the darkness to spiral until I rip my own throat out from insanity. After the funeral, something...some part of me died. Some part of me died when I got that phone call. When I walked into the hospital lobby to see my siblings in tears. It broke me. It fucked me up. Potentially beyond repair. Some part of me died on Sekoto Peak. When I had my second Quirk awakening and almost burned to death yet again. After the funeral...after I cremated her...I withdrew. Every healthy mechanism that I'd learned over the years completely evaporated. When we got home that night, I...I'm not proud of what I did. I waltzed in the elevator with Keigo, pressed our top floor button, and then jumped out before he could stop me...before he could follow me. I ran down our stairwell to the basement floor: the floor that housed our gigantic theatre. As soon as I stepped into the enormous space, I locked the door behind me and grabbed the old popcorn machine, using it to barricade the door closed. My phone exploded with calls, texts, even emails from Keigo almost immediately. He tried everything he could to reach me...and I ignored them all. Then more and more people tried to get in contact. Rumi. Then Burnin'. Then Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto. Shinji. Ryuko. Eventually, it was Miss Kaminari and Nurse Mei. Aizawa. Mic. I got a text message from Shinso regarding how he copes with his depression. I avoided them all. Every single one of them. Eventually, I threw my phone under one of the seat cushions in a random row.

The theatre room had everything I needed to become a hermit. There was a bathroom, a small kitchen, and a long, wraparound couch right in front of the giant movie theatre screen. Plus, I had a spare change of comfy clothes in here, so I was able to get out of that damn funeral suit. There were closets full of blankets, pillows, snacks, and alcohol. All of my coping mechanisms in one place...and only one way in and out (minus the emergency exit). I'd been in here for...honestly, I'm not sure...at least a week, without any human interaction or touch. Without Keigo. For all I know...I've missed Christmas...his birthday...New Year's...who fucking knows. In that time, I had hardly slept, and each time I awoke feeling unrested. Just before the sun rose today, I managed to sneak out, snatching a few things and shoving them in a backpack. Really...really only two things. Two embarrassing things: tissues and lube.

Over the years, only one coping mechanism has truly helped me feel peace...except I haven't felt this pathetic about it before. Probably because Keigo is usually involved. The love of my life and I would find ourselves in a tangle of limbs and pleasure that would make all of my mental pain melt away seamlessly. I just want some of the oxytocin. Some of the dopamine. Some of that addictive high. I just want rest. I need...I really need Keigo, but...I don't want him to see me like this. He doesn't deserve me at my lowest...especially when I'm just being greedy.

I feel so fucking broken. I don't even know what is real anymore. I don't want to know what is real. I just wanna fucking climax until I practically overdose on the chemicals and my brain goes numb. I want to make myself feel so many natural endorphins that it overloads my system and my entire body resets. I just want to fucking feel something other than this incessant emptiness and fucking despair. I fucking hate myself. It's all my fault. Of course. Of course this would happen to me. My life is a fucking joke. I can't ever catch a break, and it's been like this my entire life. Something always has to go horribly wrong in the worst fucking way possible. I need it. I need the distraction. I could've done something. I could've saved her. If we'd been out on patrol. I could've...fuck, I need the distraction.