Angst One-Shots || BNHA

9; Todoroki Shoto

TW
Mentioned/Implied physical abuse, swearing

|1st Person|
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Late on a Sunday night, I was on a walk. It was a few days before my second year of UA would undoubtedly begin. I was glad that I'd be able to get away from the house.

I was heading towards a nearby lake, where I would normally sit on a bench and eat unbothered. This time, though, a boy that was probably around my age was sitting on the bench.

He had short, mint-colored hair and dark brown eyes, plus clothes that loosely hung from his skinny frame, which screamed: "I don't care".

I sat anyway since there was room for two. Today I had only brought an apple, so there was more staring at the water than actual eating. After I'd taken a couple of bites, the boy spoke.

"Hey," He began, smiling and slightly waving his right hand. "What's your name? I'm Kobayashi Haruto."

"Todoroki Shoto."

"Oh! Hey, wait, aren't you the son of Endeavor?"

I was reluctant to answer but did anyway. "Yes."

He seemed excited. It did not amuse me in the slightest bit, how anyone could ever come to love my father as a hero, so I sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.

"That's awesome! What's he like at home?"

Diving right into the personal questions, yeah? I thought as I raised an eyebrow. He understood enough to get a tad embarrassed.

"Sorry. It's just..." He looked up at the darkening sky. "Out of all the times I cried for help, he was finally the one to save me. He's kinda become my idol now, even though I never really cared about his existence beforehand."

I stared at the grass beneath us. I found it kinda funny, though it was extremely unfair, that he saved other people's childhoods and ruined mine. Like I'm the only person allowed to hate him. Like I'll always be alone in that category because everyone either loves him or hates me.

"Ah." Is my simple answer. I asked something a bit more personal. "What did he save you from?"

"Abusive father. Not something I'm great at talking about." He put his hands behind his head.

"Mm. I completely understand. I don't exactly have the best family either."

Haruto gave me a questioning look and after a minute or two, he finally realized what I'd meant. The mood change was drastic. "No way— what the fuck? Who—"

"The one guy that can get away with it," I told him. "Not that it matters, though. I'm perfectly fine; a few cuts and bruises aren't going to break me. Never would, never will."

It took him a moment to respond, but when the light-haired boy did, it sent a chill down my spine.

"To me, you already look broken. You have that desperate look in your eyes; the look that only a person who has the same pains can understand."

There was silence. I had nothing to say.

I knew exactly what he was talking about, I'd seen it in other people's eyes. I could just never approach them or my own sufferings would threaten to resurface and smack me in the face.

"You know I'm right. Thing is— well, I have a question." The minty-haired male said.

"Do you believe he'll ever change?"

"I mean, my sister does—" I began, though he cut me off.

"No, I asked about you."

"No," I affirmed.

"Call the cops. As soon as you realize that it's not gonna get better, you need to try."

"I can't; he's the number one hero, remember?"

"Then that's the real problem here." He got up and walked away, leaving me to my thoughts.

I laughed a bit.

"Isn't it sad that the most miserable people are the ones that always refuse help?"

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Word count: 622