Silhouette | Suicidal Todoroki x Bakugou

20 | Suicidal

This story is not intended to promote or encourage its sensitive topics (such as self-harm, suicide/suicidal thoughts or actions, abuse, or substance abuse).

Shouto Todoroki

That's...just the truth, was Todoroki's first thought as his tears were swallowed into the fabric of Bakugou's shirt. That's just a fact. Not existing is easier than living. The idea of dying is simultaneously terrifying yet so relieving. I can't be there for Mai or know what's happening to her, but... He shook his head and expelled a slow, hefty breath. I can never get the thought of slitting my wrists or overdosing on something out of my head. It's overpowering. But it's not what I want. I don't want to die...

Bakugou's breaths were steady and rhythmic. "Don't lie," he muttered in a gruff voice, and yet, his fingers traced over Todoroki's back as though he'd been petting the delicate head of a puppy.

You know it's not normal to constantly be fantasizing about all the ways you could kill yourself. It's not normal to feel at your best when you're thinking about suicide. It's not normal for a suicidal ideation to become your coping mechanism.

Todoroki remained silent and still, but his body continued to vomit crystalline pellets of a conglomerate of complex, unfathomable emotions from his eyes. Everyone thinks about it at some point, right? Is it really that abnormal? He inhaled Bakugou's soothing scent, gradually relaxing again into the ash-blond's warmth.

There's a fine line between thinking about it and fantasizing about it. You long for it. You want to do it. You're desperate for it. You want to die so badly. Stop denying it.

"Is the question uncomfortable?" Bakugou asked after another few minutes of weeping tranquility.

Once again, Todoroki shook his head. I'm not like that. I have so much to live for. I couldn't...be selfish enough to want to die. Nuzzling his head against Bakugou's neck, he realized that he had abruptly put a halt to his outpour of tears. Don't leave me. Don't let go yet. Please...

"If it ain't uncomfortable, why'd you try and avoid it?" pressed Bakugou in a gravelly whisper. "Whether you want to die or not, you're still you, hear me? I wanna know you, Shu. Not a facade or some persona, but you. I'd be pissed about falling for someone that doesn't exist...for the second time." He paused both his lips and the motions of his hands. "So, give me a nod or the shake of your head... Do you want to die?"

"Why are you clinging to him, Shouto?" a silvery voice from Todoroki's memories uttered. "Was I not enough for you? Do you want to replace me that much? Was I disposable? Did our marriage mean nothing?" With words entwined in black, prickly wires, the voice Todoroki heard scraped at his ears.

I keep telling myself I want to live, but really, I—

"Would you have admitted to being suicidal to me?" asked the voice swimming between Todoroki's temples.

Todoroki shook his head and lifted his hands to Bakugou's ash-blond hair, running his hands past the sandy spikes and into an intangible sea of long, silky hair. I would have. I would have told you... He felt as the broad shoulder his jaw rested against was slimmed into a soft bun. I will tell you. I don't think I want to live. I do...want to die. I want to die...so much. So much that it hurts. I just don't want to abandon Mai. I don't want to do that to her.

"You don't ever have suicidal thoughts or ideations?" Although Todoroki could discern that the voice speaking to him was unequivocally Bakugou, he felt that voice morph, distorting at its rough edges.

Once again, Todoroki shook his head. I don't know who I'm talking to anymore. I don't know if this is a dream or reality anymore. I don't know who's real and who's not anymore. Recalling Momo's soft skin, Todoroki's fingers traipsed over Bakugou's elbows. Rough... But maybe I'm just remembering wrong. Maybe she scraped her elbow. Of course...

Yet, Todoroki dared not open his eyes so much as a sliver. Perhaps he'd subconsciously known that his wife was not the one holding him close, but all he could do was clasp onto both desire and warmth.

Then, after what Todoroki estimated to be twenty minutes, a warped voice whispered, "You feelin' better?"

Nodding slowly, Todoroki felt his ribs begin to split and tremble as the arms wrapped around him retreated. Clinging desperately to the vestiges of his living memories, Todoroki absorbed the weight and warmth of the hug to the best of his abilities before reluctantly pulling back. He kept his eyes on his knees, but abruptly, he felt a hand on his chin that forced a burning dagger of reality into his red-ringed eyes.

"Oi, look at me," commanded the ash-blond in a gravelly sigh. "Things aren't gonna stay like shit forever. You're not weak, Shu. You got this." With a firm nod, Bakugou lifted himself off the bed and outstretched his hand to Todoroki.

But you're not her... Todoroki thought while slowly shuffling towards Bakugou's hand. It feels wrong to be so trusting, accepting, open, and vulnerable to you when I've known you a fraction of the time I've known Momo. I feel like I'm disrespecting her. Like I'm replacing her. Like I'm not being loyal to her. I... Reliving the ardent kisses he'd shared with Bakugou, Todoroki's stomach curled into itself. I left her to be with a man... I'm cheating on her with a man. I'm...fucking disgusting... His fingers interlaced with Bakugou's fingers, and Todoroki was guided to the floor. But I can't change the fact that I like him... I hate myself... Why am I gay for him? I don't want to be, but I am. If I were dead, I wouldn't have to deal with any of this.

"Wanna shower while I make breakfast?" Bakugou offered, leaning against the wall adjacent to the doorframe. "Yer probably not hungry, but you gotta eat a little bit of something."

I really don't want to eat anything... Todoroki sighed to himself while nodding and lumbering into the bathroom. I don't feel alive. I don't feel like I exist. I don't feel like anyone or anything. I just...feel like a sentient bag of flesh and blood. After stripping off his clothing and starting the shower, Todoroki scrutinized his reflection. I'm so pale. I've lost so much weight. His eyes drifted to the healing, reddish-brown scars on his stomach. I'm hideous. The only person in this world that needs me is Mai, but...surely, she'd be happier and less lonely with Fuyumi. If I died now...would it really matter? I feel like I'd just be doing everyone a favor. If I died, I could be with Momo. I just... I just want to die...

Todoroki could remember showering, but he couldn't remember any of it beyond the steam of hot water and pulsating thoughts engulfing his mind. He'd envisioned himself jumping from a bridge, being severed by a train, and bleeding out from cutting all over his body. Those scenarios looped through his head like a broken record, playing over and over again in incessant, flashing bursts.

After drying off and changing into a fresh pair of clothes, Todoroki found himself staring at his left wrist. His vision zoomed into blurry rings, swishing back and forth between clarity and haziness.

I'm not afraid of dying, but I'm terrified of failing to die, Todoroki thought to himself. I want to die... I really want to fucking die... That's the only thing on my mind. I can't stop thinking about it. My mind is telling me to die. My body is urging me to die. Scrupulously looking over the blue veins squirming through his wrist like snakes, Todoroki fished out the precision knife sitting in the bathroom cabinet. I'm so tired... I want it to be over. I don't want to get up. I don't want to do anything. I don't want any expectations or responsibilities. I know that's all just a part of being alive, but I can't...do this.