The Sorrow of Silence [Mirio Togata X Reader]

[19]

I wish I had a Laufey song I could just put here that went well with this chapter, but sadly, I do not.

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3rd POV:

Mirio wishes things could have gone differently and that things hadn't come down to this. He desires it with his whole being—not having to see her as someone dangerous—as someone he has to take down—just like he does whenever he is working with Sir Nighteye—like he does with a villain.

He knows that deep down, underneath the persona losing their mind, screaming, and grabbing at her hair, was not the person he had grown to cherish so much. Why were you doing this? As much as he wants to help her and comfort her as she wailed angrily, babbling incoherently, "(Y/n)...stop that." He didn't want to see her hurting herself the way she was doing right now.

He tried to grab her arms, her wrists, to stop her from yanking her hair and hitting her own face, tears streaming down as she kept muttering strange things. It didn't take long for him to catch a strange movement from the corner of his eye, he quickly turned his head to check what it was, his fight-or-flight instincts kicking in.

There it was, the staticky, white, and unfocused form beside him. It was tall, inhumanely lanky, and had black abysmal eyes, staring at him as it began to hum. His head hurt, it felt like it was vibrating, his whole brain was hurting, and his vision was unfocused and blurry. Am I crying? Mirio brings the tips of his fingers just under his eyes and then pulls them back to look at it, surprised by the sight of blood painting them.

He could feel the same trickling sensation coming from his nose, down and over his lips, he didn't bother even checking because he immediately knew it was blood. She's going to kill me if I don't do something about it...and quickly. He then remembers his friends, Tamaki and Nejire, still lying unconscious beside each other on the ground, noticing the way blood trickled from their eyes, noses, and ears.

All hesitancy and thoughts of trying to talk it out with her fly right out the window at the sight of his friends being hurt by all that was happening. He acted before he could even fully form a plan, letting himself sink into the ground and then reappearing right behind her, not even caring that he was completely in the nude in front of the one girl he actually wanted to spare her precious little eyes from.

Though none of that was currently running through his mind, his instincts as a hero immediately kicked in, his arm around your neck and tightening it. His other hand holds his arm in place firmly, helping him when (Y/n) begins to thrash and scratch at his arm. The embodiment of her fear begins to glitch, disappearing and reappearing somewhere else, continuously as Mirio shuts his eyes tightly, trying hard to ignore the way you desperately grasp at his arm, clawing and unable to utter a word.

Your face was red as his chokehold on you did not relent until you went completely limp after fighting him off weakly, having spent the last bit of your energy and consciousness to do so. He quickly lets go of you and leads your limp body to fall into his arms, slowly kneeling on the ground before having you lay against his chest, head lolling to the side.

His chokehold was only meant to knock you out unconscious, and he did a very good job on that, but he makes sure that you're breathing, worried that he might have overdone it, but lets out a breath of relief when he knows that wasn't the case, noticing you breathing faintly. Every after that was a blur, Nejire and Tamaki woke up with a splitting headache, which Mirio began to notice he had as well when his adrenaline finally began to settle.

Someone, he wasn't able to tell who because it was hard to see through the blurry vision he was seeing, had called for help, and every single one of them was taken to the hospital, followed by Recovery Girl to make sure she could heal what she could so that none of them ended up in critical condition and the doctors could help with the rest.

At the hospital, several hours later, Principal Nezu had appeared in Mirio's hospital room, where he was currently being kept, followed by his homeroom teacher. "What exactly happened?" Nezu was sweet when he wanted to be, but Mirio had been a witness to his rather psychotic side, which has made him just a tad uneasy being in the same room, as him. Still, despite the persistent headache, though not as painful as it was a couple of hours ago, he does his best to explain the situation involving (Y/n).

Nezu and the homeroom teacher looked at each other considerably before thanking Mirio, with grim expressions on their faces. They left Mirio alone like they had before they came to check on him. He sighed, exhausted by everything that had recently been going on, bringing a hand down his face wanting to forget the side of (Y/n) he had witnessed, a side he did not know existed and wished to have never met. Still, he has...and now was having so much trouble figuring out what to do.

3rd POV:

No screaming.

She pulled at her hair, eyes bloodshot as she gritted her teeth, forehead pressed firmly against the ground as she remained hunched on the ground, wanting to block out the bright and white lights, the padded walls, and the awful, nauseating yet familiar stench of disinfectant.

No crying.

No sobbing.

She started banging her head against the floor, now digging her nails into her scalp until she felt the flesh tear and the warmth of liquid underneath her nails before trickling down the side of her head. "Shut up." She wanted the voice in her head to be quiet, she wanted the overwhelming fog clouding her mind,and  her thoughts to go away.

No whimpering.

"Shut up." She repeated once more, not even paying much mind to the distorted version of herself, screaming at the top of its lungs as it glitched crazily and launched itself from one wall to another. "Please." She couldn't stand constantly hearing his voice, hearing her voice constantly repeating the words she hated most.

"Quiet...Quiet...Quiet. Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet."

Though the distorted embodiment of herself, the sounds of the time she wished to forget the most, spoke in what sounded low and soft was in fact causing the whole room to reverberate violently. The only reason it didn't cause any damage was because of the room she was being held in. Specially padded, thick, sturdy, and soundproof.

Trembling, bringing her bloody hands down from her hair to her face as she lifts her head slightly to look through her fingers, she felt a wave of what felt like a bucket of cold water as she saw the familiar grin of the man she never wished to see again.

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Thank you for those who continue to read this despite my inconsist posts and my disappearances of long periods of time.

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