Trapped - Todoroki

11| Perfect.. just perfect

⇗   New chapter, I recommend listening to the song

[Perfect Doesn't Last]
┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

Previous chapter ——————————————
The absence brought discomfort to the girl he had befriended over time, yet as his return remained distant she had to push the thoughts away and slowly began to be forgotten. Never really forgotten, but he was no longer remembered by the invisible girl until their future at UA.. ————————————————

His back fell against the little desk that once held the overbearing amount of notes and memories of the dual-coloured male. The velocity and impact of the foreign object (Shoto) causing the books and paper writings to scatter across the floor's surface. It was almost graceful, if you didn't count the fact that the circling papers were dancing due to a body having beeb tossed against them.

As the notes dangled, each creating its own path, the words could be read. Though most sentences didn't have the luxury of illumination, the onces that did stood out. Highlighted by the frustrated flames of fury from the boy who was groaning from his imminent encounter with the desk.

╔═.✾. ════════════╗
I think that he likes to see the pain in my eyes
/
Every step that I take is another mistake
All I want to do is be more like me and be less like you
/
There are tears behind my smile
/
Everything is predictable it's worse than death
/
Will you be fine..?
Even though the fault shouldn't have been mine
Still you fill up my days
I can never forget your face
.. it's not fine..
I'm fine.?
Will I be pretending that it's alright?
I can never erase your face
/
I'm not fine..
╚════════════.✾.═╝

The words on the numerous scattered pages were illuminated by the roaring flames emitted by the boy, as his power flowed magnificently from his left. Yet the tears that made his eyes shine so brightly, (a reflection of the light) dulled the beauty of the torn pieces of writing. Sincerity evident, the written words were deep and filled with sadness. This soul left exposed, ironically like an open book. The scattered pages burning as he lost control. He was stunned.

All those years of trying to contain his fire, his father's power, the burning rage, anger, the violence that came with it. All the hatred that had built up. His walls torn as the pages lay smoking and burned his written memories away, as his past remained to smoulder.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙    His crazed thoughts could be heard, as if a violent voice was screaming them out for the whole world to hear. Repeating this sequence over and over again. Like a broken record. Recurring thoughts, invasive and toxic, while his inner voice called out the words he always tried so hard to muffle. A silent scream about to erupt due to dread, frustration growing with the second as these words, these intrusive thoughts kept him company.

Perfect facade.. perfect family.. perfect son.. perfect illusion.. perfect soon-to-be hero..
Perfect.. just perfectly broken
Perfectly silent.. because he was forced not to speak
Perfectly strong.. because he was forced to "train"
Perfectly unbothered.. because he was forced to not voice or show his opinion/emotions
Forced into silence/submission
The perfect doll for society to take advantage of
A perfect weapon..
To be thrown away once they are done with him

Society really was harsh. The mirage portrayed the ideal of how he should be, who he should be. And he had no other choice but to lower his head and follow.

The image in the mirror reflected the one he really loathed as he punched it to shatters. The perfect mirage on display was one that only outsiders could see.

If only he could see himself in the light he was projected in.. but only he knew the full truth, the real reality in which he lived.

He was just a tool for society to use..
'I guess it's true what they say..' he scoffed,
'Who am I if not exploited?'

The question remained. ⁂̩̩͙͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁎̩͙