over and over (i fuck myself over) | bnha

chapter three

  "We should talk about what happened this morning," Shoto stated during lunch, gaining the attention of the small group he sat with. He observed their faces and studied their expressions for a few moments before he collected his thoughts. He needed to word this correctly and make it sound like he wasn't defending Bakugo's previous actions. He breathed before saying, "That was entirely unnecessary this morning. We all agreed to ignore him, not make a fool out of him."

Hagakure brushed it off, waving her gloved hand carelessly before poking at her bowl of udon noodles. "It was nothing too bad," she defended, giggling and picking up her chopsticks. "Besides, I didn't even mean to trip him. It was accidental!"

Shoto frowned but said nothing about the issue. He knew there was no point in wasting his breath if no one was going to listen and if they were all going to believe that they were right; he had experienced this once and would not experience it again. Endeavor was cruel and harder to please; he always thought he was correct, even when facts disagreed with his ridiculous arguments.

His classmates weren't his father, and he had no right to compare them to his abuser/genetic contributor, but it was a bad force of habit he was learning to break. Shoto exhaled, taking his trash and tossing it in the garbage. The lunch room felt too stuffy, and he could feel the sweater trickling down his neck and disappearing into the collar of his uniform. The sooner he got fresh air, the better Shoto would feel, so he excused himself from the small friend group and quickly headed to the roof.

It was quiet, and Todoroki could enjoy the delicate breeze that brushed his warm cheek. He felt a bit better, leaning against the railing with a sigh. He had improved at not shutting down immediately and recognizing when he was on the verge of tears or even lashing out at his classmates. Thankfully, he had friends to help keep him grounded, but he still felt awkward opening up about everything he had to endure when he was little.

His mother poured boiling water on his face because he looked too similar to his father. His deceased brother tried to take him out of this world due to sheer jealousy (according to Enji). All the horrific training sessions left Shoto so bruised and swollen he swore he was going to die in his sleep, but Endeavor wouldn't let that happen.

No matter how many times or how loud Shoto begged God just to kill him.

He stopped himself from going down that dark road, standing straight and running a hand through his dual-colored hair. Todoroki was no longer in that empty, cold house but surrounded by loving friends and his dear siblings. Hell, he was getting therapy, much to his father's dismay and angry protests, and making progress. They never judged him for his past, treated him with respect, and allowed him to proceed at his own pace. They never questioned his story and accepted him with open arms after his little altercation with Midoriya during the Sports Festival.

It led to Shoto believing he was too quick to judge Bakugo and dismiss his statement about Midoriya's past behavior. It wasn't fair to compare bullying to abuse—both were horrible and could not be justified, of course—and Todoroki felt as if he was missing the bigger picture or there was information he was missing. Bakugo wouldn't lie about such grave things, and Midoriya said he deserved it for being annoying and a menace to Kacchan. At first, he simply thought that Midioriya was blaming himself for being the object of Katsuki's rage, but now that he added Bakugo's statements to the equation, it was starting to make more sense, but Shoto didn't want to be wrong.

What if Bakugo bullied Midoriya to the point that he thought he was a burden?

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose while pivoting on the ball of his foot, pressing his back against the railing. "This is a pain," Shoto grumbled, letting his head fall back. It was a lovely day out, and the sun's warm rays gently beat down on his face, highlighting his cheekbones. The light bathed his body like an ethereal being that descended from the heavens.