Suicidal Todoroki x Midoriya | What it Means to Love

40 | Melt My Heart

Shoto Todoroki

I cannot recall where I am as I'm submerged into the frozen pool of reality splintering into translucent fractals of various precipitous shapes. The tiled floor of a charcoal hue obscured by the clutches of darkness beneath me is cold and soaked by a thin layer of liquid; my fingers brush over coarse grooves between the slick tiles until they meander into a cool, sticky puddle. A dim ray of light seeps into the dark room through a slight gap between the door and the floor, the beckoning light fanning out like an unfolded cone until the straggling vestiges of light can reach no further into the darkness.

As I attempt to stand, an intense pulse of pain stabs through my abdomen and left thigh. Ah, that's right, I think to myself while forcing my arms to obey my command and lift my aching body off of the floor. I remember now. Panting as I position myself on my knees without my arms supporting my weight on the floor, I wince in agony at what feels as if everything on the inside of me has been gouged open by a serrated knife.

And yet these most recent memories are the ones mired. Nonetheless, it is imperative that I locate Izuku. If my impersonator endeavored to capture Izuku's heart as if she were me, I should see to it that she is eliminated. Toga is a villain, therefore my decision is not fully unwarranted. Ahah. How abominably wrong of me to think like this. I truly am nothing more than a disgrace, Izuku.

"Ah..." I groan, wrapping my right arm over my torso. It feels as if I am being forced to relive my childhood. Perish those memories, Shoto. He no longer exists. "Even after you no longer exist, it still feels as if you do," I begrudgingly mutter under my breath while straightening my legs to lift the rest of my body up. Damn, this is agonizing. What transpired to have evoked such intense pain that my memory fails to recollect?

Placating myself through the excruciating pain ravaging my body like a maelstrom of fire, I release a long huff of air through my teeth.

Tch. I would prefer not to use his quirk, but I have no other option. I would be a greater fool to reject his quirk now. Detest it I may, but disregarding the facts would be far more contemptible.

"You don't have to be a prisoner of your blood."

I will find my way without him. Activating the quirk of my left half, a bright red flame sears the air from the palm of my hand. I never needed him to begin with. Provided with the ability to see my surroundings by the warm source of light I've created, I find myself buckling under the weight of the traumatizing memories I'd sought to eradicate. This is nearly identical to those times...the times that were not figuratively killing me, but damaging my body to the point of being forced to retch everything up, stand back up, and repeat the cycle until I was physically unable to move my limbs. Even if it inevitably allowed me to grow stronger, it...hurt. It hurt...so much more than I can put into words.

Even if I am not 'sad' in the slightest, one does not have to experience sorrow to experience pain. The pain that I can recall dug far deeper than sorrow. The 'sorrow' I felt eventually abandoned the notion of tears. I no longer felt sorrow. I felt only the pain. Pain...and absolute emptiness. I believed it was normal to receive such horrific training. I did want to be strong. I wanted to become a hero. I wanted to grow into a strong hero. But...not like that. N-Not like that. Not when everything I did was 'wrong' and disgraceful. Not when I was forced to hide the fact that I wanted to die. Not when I no longer felt human. Not. Like. That.

"Stop exaggerating the pain, Shoto."

"You don't know half the pain that heroes must endure. Stop complaining."

"If this is the best you have, then forget about becoming a hero. Do I need to tell you to get up and try harder? Get up and try harder."

"Have you come to disappoint me again, Shoto?"