Suicidal Todoroki x Midoriya | What it Means to Love

46 | My Starting Line

Shoto Todoroki

"I'm always worrying about you, Shoto," Midoriya sighs, tucking his hand into mine while we sit facing each other on my bed. "Ever since that day when you f-finally showed me that you can cry and that you really do still have emotions, you haven't been the same. Shoto, please just tell me the truth. You're not weak for wh-what you did—you're incredibly strong to have endured the pain like this. You've lived like this for a long time, haven't you?" I can feel as his hand trembles in mine. "You have s-so many scars, and I know that the majority of them are self-inflicted. I know I can't just extract the pain from the past with words alone, but it isn't fair for you to suffer alone like this. I don't want you to suffer like this. Nothing, regardless of how it's perceived as by society, renders you as deserving of having your body mutilated by anyone's hand."

You sound remarkably similar to me when I was a child, I think to myself, taking Midoriya's other hand into mine. My emotions, however, were directed at my mother.

Blinking a couple of times before replying to Midoriya, I begin to realize how feelings, memories, and people are capable of overlapping with each other. "Perhaps I lost my composure then," I sigh.

Something inside me urged me to release my tears. I could have ignored it, but that is not what transpired. Despite how I truly felt, my thoughts reflected such a falsely truthful gleam. Why? What was it? Was it simply my attempt at moving myself across the board like a pawn? It felt so wrong, yet it looked so right—for once, my behavior was felicitous to the circumstances. It felt as if it was the 'normal' thing to do.

Midoriya pulls my hands in his direction. "P-Please don't dodge the question this time. And if you really did just lose your composure, then why did it ultimately result in you being sent to the hospital? Shoto, I-I think I'm the only one who knows that yes...you are just like the rest of us. I mean, I can't force you to say anything you don't want to, b-but it would be beneficial for both of us."

With eyes devoid of emotion, I lift my pupils until they rest on Midoriya's. "What is it that you wish for me to say? I do not mind if you directly ask me." Although I am fully cognizant of what Midoriya is imploring, I strongly desire for my intuition to be incorrect. "We are boyfriends, are we not?"

"Then, Shoto..." His silence cuts the air like a blade. "Umm, do you ever think about trying again, or, well, harming yourself in any way?" His apprehensive breath creeps from his mouth in brief spurts.

Although I'm painstakingly aware of the glaring truth, the baleful voice residing in my head ensures that the truth manifests in my interminable memories. You don't deserve to be alive, it growls in an undertone. While you starve, let them thrive. While they smile, you will taste a pungent bile. Your love is a waste. It's bitter, flavorless—it has a rancid taste. You were quite blind. What you possess is a tenebrous mind. So go about your day and simply express a frown. Oh, my, I believe I detect a lie—and I know why. Is it not true that on the inside...

I feel as if I'll drown, I finish incorrectly for the perplexingly poetic voice hissing through my mind like the sharp, high-pitched screech from the feedback of a microphone. I grow increasingly exhausted by your asinine rhymes. You've no need to articulate yourself in such a way. Simply state what you must. The rhymes are more vexing and less cutting.

"They've faded for the most part," I answer, lying through my teeth. "Sometimes I cannot help but recall those thoughts, but I promise not to succumb to them. As such, I promise never to return to the act of cutting myself."