Broken Pieces - Bnha OC x Shoto Todoroki (Multiple Personality Disorder/DID)

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POV Aki

The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as Aki sat in the hospital room, her heart racing. It had been days since she first felt a glimmer of recognition with Kirishima, but the comfort was fleeting. She was surrounded by unfamiliar faces and voices, each demanding her attention, yet the world around her felt like a dream—blurry and disjointed.
The nurse entered with a clipboard, her smile warm but clinical. "Alright, Aki, we're going to run some tests today. Nothing to worry about, just some routine checks to see how you're doing."

Aki nodded, though a knot tightened in her stomach. Tests. She had grown accustomed to being prodded and poked, but the thought of being examined again filled her with dread. The memories of her past flashed before her—cold rooms, harsh lights, and the feeling of being trapped.
"Please, not again,"
she murmured, her voice barely audible.

The nurse's expression softened. "I understand this can be overwhelming, but it's important for your health. You're safe here."

Safe? The word felt foreign to her. She fidgeted with the hem of her gown, the fabric scratchy against her skin. The nurse took her arm gently, preparing to take her vitals. As the cold cuff wrapped around her arm, Aki closed her eyes, willing the tension to seep away.

But it didn't. Instead, a voice echoed in her mind, harsh and demanding. You're weak. You can't even handle this.

"No... stop," she whispered, shaking her head to dispel the thoughts. The nurse looked concerned but continued her work, oblivious to Aki's internal struggle.

After what felt like an eternity, the nurse finished and left the room. Alone, Aki could hear the whispers growing louder, taunting her. You think you're special? You're just a broken toy, discarded and forgotten.
Time passed slowly, and Aki drifted in and out of consciousness, the medications blurring her reality. She hated feeling this way, like a marionette with strings cut, floating in a haze. The voices grew more insistent, and soon, she was lost in a tumult of thoughts, each one darker than the last.

Every day seemed to blur into the next—tests, pills, questions she didn't want to answer. The doctors and nurses probed for details, but she knew better than to share everything. The voices wouldn't let her.

„Today, you'll be meeting with a therapist. It's just to go over some questions, see if we can piece together a few things to help the police investigation."

Aki's fingers curled tightly around the fabric of her gown. The thought of talking about what had happened sent a sharp jolt of anxiety through her. She didn't want to remember, and she definitely didn't want to share. The voices swelled, forbidding her to speak, whispering dark warnings if she dared.

The nurse noticed her tension. "I'll be right here if you need me. Just take things at your own pace."

Nodding stiffly, Aki followed her to the therapy room, every step feeling heavier than the last. When she entered, she saw Kirishima already seated, looking as unsure as she felt. He gave her a small, encouraging smile, which she tried to return, but her heart wasn't in it.
"Hey, Aki," he said softly. "Don't worry. I'll be right here the whole time."

The therapist, a calm and steady woman with a gentle voice, gestured for Aki to sit across from her. "Welcome, Aki, Kirishima. Today we're going to try to understand a bit more about what happened. It might be hard, but remember—you're safe now."

Aki tensed. The words you're safe rang hollow; she didn't feel safe, not with everything lingering in her mind, and especially not with the voices refusing to release her. She could feel them, cold and oppressive, lurking just beneath the surface, warning her to stay quiet.