Suicidal Todoroki x Midoriya | What it Means to Love

22 | If I Disappeared

Shoto Todoroki

For a few weeks, Midoriya would return to my house early in the morning at the break of dawn when the lazy sun would peep over the ridge separating terra firma from sky, or he would spend the night. I'd never been visited in such a recurring manner before, but I suppose it proved to be quite pleasant at times. Midoriya blissfully grinned each and every time he would walk in the front door. He would ask how I'm doing and how my day has been, and, as someone who cannot resurface a memory of being compassionately asked these questions before, it faintly warmed my excoriated skin. Each day, he asked what I wanted to do and what I wanted to eat, always with his radiant smile, which shone across his red, lustrous cheeks. I couldn't quite reach my hand out to grasp something Midoriya left bobbing along the surface of the sea I've transformed into my home, but whenever I drew near, I felt a swimming warmth in my cheeks and a rejuvenated sense of motivation.

I've not seen my classmates in U.A. for about a month, but in spite of Midoriya's persistent pleas not to attend U.A. again quite yet, I will finally be released from what almost seems like a quarantined cage today. My mind fumbles for the possible thoughts and opinions on my return, and as I slowly gather them up like a small collection, I feel a frown ghosting my lips.

Although I'm cognizant that my mental state has not improved in the slightest, I continue to draw out my past words and spill out the claims that I will return unfazed. In my mind, whatever transpires will be something I can accept; I've accepted and survived this living nightmare for fifteen years as it is, so certainly, nothing can ruthlessly shatter me, right?

"Izuku," I call out to him, standing outside my house in the gilded rays of sun pouring down from the halcyon sky. Weeks have passed since I've set foot into the sunlight, so I squint in all its blinding radiance. "Ready?" The front door is open, so I can see Midoriya scrambling to pull his red shoes on.

"I-I'm coming!" Midoriya exclaims, stumbling to his feet and knocking his back against the frame of the door before falling outside in a heap. "Whoa!" I raise my brow at him as he picks himself up and runs towards me. "R-Ready!"

I see. "I sincerely hope you do not fall again." Midoriya gives me a sheepish grin and walks with me back to U.A., his hand in mine. "But I must thank you for dedicating your time to me. I did not believe my actions would cause something such as this to ensue." I glance down at my hand that isn't being held in Midoriya's. "I had no intention of hurting you."

"Shoto, I-I know I've told you this before, but I'm just hurt by the fact that you're hurt. You're not just an acquaintance to me—not even just a friend. Y-You're my boyfriend, so y-you're like family to me. Even if I didn't know you, it would still hurt me to see you in so much pain. No one should have to feel like this. I wouldn't wish this upon the vilest of villains." He reinforces his grip on my hand as if I'm going to fall into the maw of an endless abyss without enhanced support.

I retain my silence as we enter through the gates of U.A. beneath the warm touch of the sunlight.

The majority of students glare at me scornfully, while the minority congratulate me. I attempt to soften my bleak, blank expression whenever it so happens that someone smiles at me—not Midoriya or someone behind me, but me.

It stupefies me that the existence of those who congratulate me exists, I think as another student grins at me and tells me that I've done a fantastic job winning the U.A. sports festival. The predominant masses still detest me, however, so I suppose that is a good thing. I would prefer to have others lambaste my existence, rather than someone else. I imagine that there are others who have persevered through hardships more extreme than mine.