Suicidal Todoroki x Midoriya | What it Means to Love

23 | A Heart That Will Never Heal

Shoto Todoroki

Mom...do you resent the fact that I've allowed myself to ignite my flames? I ask myself. Can I still be considered a hero? Is it possible for me to save anyone if I cannot save myself?

Pretending as if I've never shed a single tear in the fifteen years I've existed, I effortlessly assume my stoic persona and return to my lunch table with Midoriya, Iida, Uraraka, and Tokoyami.

Once the day has ended and we're released from class, I monotonously explain to Midoriya that I can walk myself home after speaking with Bakugou. Midoriya is eminently skeptical, procuring that he'll wait for me. I sigh and nod at the consensus we've reached—or, more accurately, the one I lack the motivation to refute.

Bakugou waggles his hand, signaling for me to follow him. We walk in silence up to the roof of U.A., where the sky glows prominently with light blue. He then jams his fingers into my shoulders and shuffles my body towards the edge of the rooftop.

Would I complain? I wonder with a vast train of thought soaring through my mind. No. A surreptitious smile brushes against my lips, but my lips remain unfazed. How long ago was it that I first wanted to die?

Now staring down over the edge of the roof with my shoulders screaming out in agony from Bakugou's nails digging into them, I turn my head towards his direction. "What are you doing?" I inquire indifferently, not attempting to break free from his hold.

From the height I'm standing at, falling off of the building would more than likely result in death. A small stream of students is trickling out of the gates of U.A., although they look almost like ants from my place in the sky.

"What wouldja do if I said I was gonna push ya?" Bakugou threatens, his deepened vibrato clinging onto the air like the moisture of the morning from a previous night's rain. He shoves my body another few inches towards the edge, causing my feet to hit the guard railing along the rooftop to prevent anyone from easily falling off. "Well, Icyhot?"

It would be quite simple to use my quirk to break my fall. "I suppose it depends," I answer with a lifeless, hollow voice.

He lifts my body up into the air and places my feet along the top of the guard railing. Now he clutches my wrists, which fails to provide me with any form of an incentive not to allow the wind to grasp my hands and whisk me into an unknown realm that I can presume would be hell itself. "Depends on what, huh?" he presses precipitously.

"My current situation."

"You sure about that?" he hisses tempestuously, bringing my hands behind my back and pushing up against them to force me to either stumble forwards, arch my back forwards, or fall forwards. I arch my back as if I've just taken in a massive breath of air. "Indeed," I whisper, exhaling ploddingly.

The rough, sweaty hands locking mine together suddenly jerk me backwards and then spin me around. "Oh, Goddammit!" Bakugou roars acrimoniously once his hands fly back onto my shoulders and grapple onto them like a pair of talons so that I face him directly. "Two, three, four, five weeks? Doesn't matter! Shit! How the hell have you not changed your views at all? If I'd pushed yer ass off the roof and you died, how do ya think that damn nerd would feel?" His boiling eyes steam his cheeks with red.

"Likely furious that you pushed me."

Would Izuku be furious? Would he despair? Although I hate to admit it, I do believe his heart is pure. He proved that to me on that day. Why is it that I am skeptical of the one I entrusted myself to? He was correct in saying that I am ungrateful. I lead quite the covetable life—I have far more than I could ever deserve. Despite my life being full of frivolous luxuries, I feel empty. I have a benevolent boyfriend, and yet I feel alone. With each day, I am praised with affirmation and love, but my heart refuses to mend. I have a surplus of food at home and a wonderful sister and boyfriend who prepare meals for me, but I possess no desire to consume any of it. I have more than everything, so why... Why is it that I have a heart that will never heal? Why...do I still want to die?