Red and White, Black and Blue

Chapter 13: Red and White

The dragon disappears into the flames as Todoroki stares upward, still gasping for breath. The faint, indistinct shadow suddenly shifts and shrinks, and the fire evaporates soon after.

A cold sickness comes over him. For a moment, he isn't sure if the figure falling from the sky is the girl he was just fighting, or a young version of himself, covered in burns. In the low afternoon sun, his own shadow looms before him - it looks huge and monstrous, like his father's.

He forces his eyes shut. When he reopens them, the girl is still falling, but he's sure it's her now. His hands shake. He can't believe what he's done. This is just what he wanted.

Midnight and Cementoss are rushing in to catch her, but Todoroki doesn't notice. The rest of the world feels distant and muffled to him. As he stares upward, all he can see and think about is the weight of his own mistakes. His failings. His inability to hold to his own principles. The faint nausea is getting stronger.

Midoriya... I want to believe you. But I can't... not when this...

Todoroki takes a step forward. Ice surges up from his right foot, forming a smooth slide that reaches up to Arisato's body. It catches her, and she glides comparatively gently down to the ground. He kneels, and she comes to a stop in his arms at the base of the ice spire.

He averts his gaze immediately, too terrified to look at the damage he's surely caused. He knows how much it hurts. He knows - and yet he did it anyway.

I really am no better than him... I could easily have killed her...

The teachers arrive and collect Arisato, sending her off to the nurse's office. He dimly registers the sound of Mic and Midnight calling the match in his favor, but he doesn't care. If this is the cost of victory...

He's losing control of his breathing. It's taking all his focus just to hide it. He has to get out of here. Get away. Anywhere. Away from people, away from his class.

Anywhere that he can't find me.

He hurries off the field, shame bearing down on him. The trembling in his hands is getting worse. A plain little unmarked door at the end of a side hall catches his eye and he slinks inside.

It's a storage closet. There's various equipment for other possible events packed neatly into the small space.

Todoroki collapses into a clear spot of wall between a rack of foam swords and a stack of hurdles, sliding down to sit on the cold stone floor. A shallow, shaky breath escapes him and he draws his knees halfway up to his chest.

"How... How could I...?" He grabs his left arm with his right, gripping it tightly. He presses his nails into the flesh - not enough to leave any obvious mark, but enough to hurt.

He lets go, and looks down at his arms. He feels a phantom burning coming from the old scars. They're so faint and faded now as to be nearly invisible - but he still remembers them, still sees them. How could he ever forget?

For a while... almost... but then I...

Hot tears blur his vision, and through the distortion he slips into a memory.

He's on the floor, on his hands and knees. The burns on his arms are fresh and painful, but he's so exhausted and sick he can't even do anything about it.

He tries to breathe, and looks up to the man standing over him, pleading in his eyes.

But the mountain towering above has no pity, no mercy for the young boy. He might only have been five or six back when this happened, but already he was expected to train like a real pro. The blue eyes of his father hold only cold rage and disappointment. "Get up."