Suicidal Todoroki x Midoriya | What it Means to Love

52 | Malignant Deceit

Shota Aizawa

Although the task had been considerably simplistic compared to what he had had in mind, Aizawa managed to coerce Todoroki into conversing with him at Aizawa's own abode. He initially anticipated the boy to strongly oppose this idea and resist any prodding performed in order to extract information, but this proved not to be the case. The anguished defeat in Todoroki's voice was eminently clear when he agreed to Aizawa's proposition, and this brought a deft dance of sorrow over Aizawa's mind.

Aizawa's astute, resolute eyes failed to detect the rotting truth that had been festering in Todoroki's shadow during the first few weeks of class. At first, Aizawa paid no mind to Todoroki's austere and aloof nature, assuming it to have simply been his student's personality. However, the raven-haired man suddenly became acutely aware that there was something more—something horrific and rabid—transpiring in Todoroki's life once he overheard Todoroki's conversation with Midoriya, Hagakure, and Ashido during their walk in Kyoto. The oblique shift in Todoroki's lilt and tone was more than likely completely invisible to his students, but not to him. Proceeding that conversation he'd heard, Aizawa surreptitiously kept a keen, close eye over Todoroki; he noted his and his student's interactions with Midoriya and how drastically the two changed after he'd spoken with them. Then came the afternoon during lunch when Midoriya had been apprehensively scrambling up to Aizawa with large, hysteric green eyes; Midoriya informed him that Todoroki might have been planning to commit suicide by jumping from the U.A. rooftop. Without an ounce of hesitation to hold his hand and implore him to slow down and take a calm, rational approach, the man of an onyx gaze sprinted to the roof to find Todoroki remorselessly crushing a small yellow bird in the palm of his hand, which was, for good reasoning, quite the disconcerting sight that Aizawa never imagined happening upon.

After ordering Midoriya to accompany Todoroki home early, Aizawa began a thorough, meticulous scouring of his memories regarding Todoroki's concerningly unorthodox behavior. That was when he recognized it—the voracious, capricious pits of vacancy staring at him from behind the mired shards of Todoroki's dulled eyes of lucid despair—but where had he seen it before? Aizawa noticed Todoroki's gradually growing thinness, and how his student directly avoided physical contact with his arms; he also noticed how Todoroki would flinch whenever something came into contact with any tangible part of him. Contributing to his culminating suspicion, the boy consistently wore long-sleeved clothing, regardless of the weather; whether it was a shirt, a coat, or a sweatshirt, Todoroki's clothing was always long-sleeved.

Now he finally has Todoroki secured in the safety of his home, which is outside the reaches of any vexatious human interruptions. He had long been conducting a plan to pull Todoroki to the side in order to converse with him, but Midoriya appeared to be two steps ahead of him whenever the thought crossed his mind. Nonetheless, Aizawa can't help but feel pity gnawing away at him as he looks into the emotionally repressed and scarred eyes, the disconsolate shadow from a perpetual frown, the inauspiciously emaciated body, and the bleak air of culpability and desolation of the U.A. sports festival champion.

Todoroki scowls at him by slightly lowering his brows and vaguely flicking down the peripheries of his lips. "Why is it that you and Midoriya are pursuing the causes of my problems? I am cognizant that they exist, but why are you wasting your breath on me? Would it not be in both of our interests to proceed with our days as if nothing ever occurred?" His subdued, yet livid words are seething with suppressed conviction.

You seem to be trapped in a cycle of self-deception and self-reproach, Aizawa thinks to himself, watching as Todoroki's fingers begin to fidget to a minute, virtually unnoticeable degree. It's almost as if you're insecure about something. Ah. Fear. Is there something causing you to feel apprehension? Something you have no desire to speak to me about? I'm sorry for invading personal territory, but I'll have to ask some deeper questions. Otherwise, I will arrive at no conclusion. More than likely, this conclusion will be lackluster and incredibly tentative, but I need material to work with since I can gradually garner more with time and patience. He's a reticent kid, but despite the neutrality he typically speaks with, his unwonted phrasing frequently proves to be his own downfall. Albeit that there are some guarded responses of his that are ambiguous and nearly impossible to decipher, but his aura and words seem eminently paradoxical. I am still unable to discern whether or not his occasional display of fickle behaviors is the result of repression or bonafide loss.