𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 || S. Todoroki x Reader

35 - Attitude Adjustment

"I need ya to tell me exactly what happened one more time, alright kid?" Hawks stared at your classmate, empathy sliding into his tone.

"He said if I moved he would kill me." Midoriya looked like a beaten doll; tug the string, hear the same sound over and over again. "That all five of his fingers would disintegrate me if they touched my throat. He said next time he saw me, he—he'd probably kill me and whoever else got in his way."

The two of them had been at it for just under an hour, the bags under their eyes getting darker with every passing minute. Midoriya shook like a leaf for the first ten minutes, but he grew too tired after a while. Shoto was hungry and pissed. You were numb.

Hawks sighed and leaned back into his chair for what seemed like the hundredth time. Since he was the head of the HPSC's investigation of the League, it was his task to interview—'more like interrogate,' Shoto had mumbled—anyone and everyone who'd seen Shigaraki at the mall earlier. 

It just happened that after his little visit with the three of you, he'd disappeared into thin air. It was the first Hawks had heard or seen of the League since the USJ incident, and he was determined to squeeze every ounce of information from the three of you.

The room was tight and hot. You could feel the layer of sweat coating between your shoulder blades from exhaustion. Also because the air conditioner couldn't seem to do its fucking job. Pleasantries had passed, the four of you had turned snappy somewhere past hour two and now your collective tempers didn't help the heat in the room.

Midoriya—whose nerves managed a sloppy jolt as he let his hands unfold; Shoto—who'd crouched down to hold your head so you couldn't rip your hair out. He nearly suffered a heart attack when your scream pierced his ears, another wave of nausea-inducing as he'd noticed Midoriya a few feet away curled in on himself.

Hawks, who looked no better than the three of you, especially when he kept overtly glancing over at you in the corner. Curled into yourself, hands squeezing your knees to your chest, staring into the floor. He couldn't remember the last word you'd said; the interrogation had been quick when he realized you were in a state of shock and it was useless trying to whittle something from stone when you only have a plastic knife. 

The second he'd heard your name mentioned in witnesses, he'd known it was going to be rough. Shigaraki was always a sore subject in the household, practically a banned name. Now, he saw the way your skin broke in goosebumps whenever he mentioned the League.

"Okay," Hawks sighed, rubbing his eyes and raking his hand through disheveled hair. "Thank you, Midoriya." The kid was fried. Any more questions and Hawks was sure he'd burn to a crisp. "You're free to go."

The boy looked up at him, eyes widening as he realized the dismissal. His chair screeched on the floor as he pushed back from the table. You didn't flinch. Midoriya was a foot away from the door before he bent down before you, searching for any life in his eyes.

"I'll see you later, Y/n?" He framed it as if it was a question. It was a question. How long would you be in this catatonic state before he could look into your face and recognize his friend?

The door clicking shut was as deafening as the safety on a revolver.

Now only you, Shoto, and Hawks remained.

"What happened to her after Shigaraki disappeared?"

You hated that Hawks talked like you weren't in the room.

Shoto hesitated like he was scared to answer. "I only noticed after she screamed." He glanced over at you, staring into the nothingness. "She was pulling at her hair. Uh—holding her head like it hurt. Her breathing...." Bile rose in his throat before he could stop it; just because he was talking didn't mean he didn't feel the aftermath. "She—she had a panic attack, I'm pretty sure."