In My Memories | Suicidal Villain Todoroki x Depressed Bakugou

2 | It's All Your Fault

Katsuki Bakugou

It's like hell itself is screeching in my face when I have the unfortunate obligation to wake up to my alarm. I've been dreading today all night long, and even though I managed to succumb to sleep within a matter of minutes, I still woke up a few times last night from remembering him. I swear, it's like there are two ailments hijacking my control over myself—those being my alarm and the damn repulsing thoughts of the past.

Groaning, I pull myself together and lock myself into my bathroom. I collapse down onto the cool, laminated floor and bury my head into my knees. As much as I loathe crying, my memories still command my emotions, which makes me feel weak as hell. Right now, I'm internally panicking at the thought of practically being confined inside a hellhole of my nightmares. It isn't Todoroki that I'm hysterical about right now, but rather drowning in the hellish memories that will inevitably seep up and threaten to drag me down below from his presence reminding me of the past. I can't scale my feelings with any proper measurements, but if I could right now, I know that the number would be ridiculous.

All I ever do is cry...cry like I'm five years old, I internally sibilate. I hate it. Crying is for weaklings like Deku, and I'm not weak. I'm better than him. I just don't understand. Why do I keep wallowing in the things I've already wept over? I'm so sick of it! I'm so goddamn sick of crying every single day of my life over what I can't change. It's bullshit! Tch. That piece of shit has probably never felt sadness before. God, then why am I so inferior to him? He still has the nerve to act like nothing happened. If I ever brought it up, he'd probably give me a slight frown and some half-assed pity—or he'd laugh just to burn my pride and tear my heart to shards. I hate that... I hate it. I can't even find a better word than 'hate' to throw.

A ragged frown curves onto my lips. "Goddammit..." It feels like someone is shoving my head down into the depths of the vast, roaring ocean.

"Katsuki, are you in there?" my mom asks through the door to my bathroom. SON OF A—

"What do you want?" I can't unhear the humiliating crack in my voice once I've said this. Oh, goddammit, I hope that I go to hell!

"Don't you talk to me like that!" The hell? I always talk like this! You didn't even notice my damn voice crack? "Come on out. Your dad and I want to spend a few minutes with you before you leave." I can see her shadow from the thin crack separating the door from the floor, and it briskly evanesces into the distant light.

Unfettered fury possesses my body like a hostile demon. My hands dampened by the wetness of my streaming tears are tightly covering my eyes, but now I'm practically making an attempt to gouge them out. I stifle and manage to suppress a primal, deafening scream as my body contorts and flops forwards onto the ground. I've never quite felt like this before, but it's as if the urge to vomit and stay my breath have merged into one—like half of me wants to purge my feelings in one fell swoop, but the other half wants me tamp them down and hold them in, despite how nauseating they are.

I can feel the sharp, rigid pressure of my fingers jabbing into my eyes, but somehow, it feels good. It's an immensely unpleasant feeling, and yet it sates a voracious flame burning within me. It feels like I'm about to scoop my eyes out of their teary sockets, but I soon manually stop myself before I create an injury for everyone to ask about.

When I open my throbbing eyes, everything is drenched in a foggy haze. The walls have blurred into the ceiling and floor, and at this point, it's difficult to pick out any specific colors. This appalling world before me gradually clears up, but it takes at least a minute for most everything miring my vision to dissipate.