In My Memories | Suicidal Villain Todoroki x Depressed Bakugou

6 | Drowning

Shouto Todoroki

Falling. Shattering. Splitting. Sinking. Fading. Deteriorating. Vanishing... Ah. I wish that were the case, but I could never receive such a wonderful sequence of events from the cold hands of fate. I could never draw such perfect cards in such a perfect order. Perfect? Is anything truly perfect? 'Perfect' varies from person to person, does it not? How peculiar.

"Now stand and follow me like an obedient dog—like you have a heart," Bakugou instructs me with an irked lour. His jagged, rough words are like weatherbeaten stones pummeling against my body each time they materialize from his thoughts. "My God. Hey. Look at me in the damn eyes. Listen, I don't give two shits about what you think, but either you're going to be a good little dog and follow me, or I'll drag you there by the nape of your neck."

You heard him, Shouto. You know that he would punish you again if he found out you were misbehaving. Pathetic. Useless. Unwanted child. Even Katsuki Bakugou wants you to die. The only reason he refrained from strangling you to death was to prevent himself from receiving an immediate expulsion and a criminal record. You cannot try the dead for their crimes, so stop killing them with the memories you return to them. You're killing them. So why are you incapable of killing yourself?

Still rebuking myself for my previous outburst of trepidation to have exposed itself in front of Bakugou, I force a plaintive smile onto my lips. "Surely you jest. Regardless, I was only kidding you." I rise from my futon and stand at Bakugou's side.

Trash has no right to stand next to that which is superior to it. Trash. Useless trash. Rancid trash. Ungrateful trash. Deceitful trash. Indignant trash. Asinine trash. Trash nonetheless.

Bakugou squints at me with shifty red eyes. "You okay?" His point-blank inquiry causes my heart to leap, but once the warm, glowing words leave his mouth, he slaps the palm of his hand against his face, leaving me to recover from the desolate twinge of the truth.

No. It feels like my heart is a pincushion. Like the tears behind my eyelids are acid. Like my lungs are filling with water. But it matters not in the end. I did this to myself. I wanted this outcome. Whatever it takes to forget the pain. "I assure you that I am fine," I sigh, easily sliding the blatant lie from my mouth.

Lies. I breathe them in like oxygen and I exhale new chemical compositions of the original forms of said lies. They travel through my veins—carried along by my blood. They are what I am composed of. As much as they pain me to breathe in and gulp down, they've become a festering parasite that I depend on to live. Maybe, if given enough time, these lies will evolve into the truth. Perhaps its toxic taste will dampen and ferment into something more pleasant—something easier to swallow. Even so, I cannot alter the truth as to why I am here. Which is more preferable: idyllic lies tailored to one's own 'perfection,' or the poignant truth soaked to the bone in venom?

"Goddammit! There you go again. You're jerking me around like you own me. A dog doesn't get to drive the course of its master without reprisal. You think you're above me? Well, you couldn't be more wrong than that! You will always be beneath me. Now get down on your knees and tell me you're nothing compared to me." His onyx pupils are unwavering as they glare down at me.

I'm sorry. It was never my intention... Is it that you are making hasty assumptions, or is it that I am unknowingly behaving in such culpable ways? I suppose that that would be the drawback to what is typically perceived as an abstruse, blasé countenance. Regardless, I did not intend to pique you.

Worthless. Every time you breathe, you are selfishly consuming the precious resource known as oxygen that keeps all living organisms alive. Every time you move, you are disturbing the stability of the earth you walk on. Every time you so much as put food in your mouth, you are flaunting the luxuries you were given before those who have none. Have you no shame? No remorse for your heinous wrongdoings? No justification for your idiocy? How revolting.