Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Shouto Todoroki {Hanahaki AU}

Requested by: Midnights-writing

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"If I had a flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden." -- Claudia Adrienne Grandi.

He lay embedded deep within both heart and mind, torturing you constantly. This mysterious and unlikely disease had essentially drained you of all your strength, which often caused you to faint during training. As well as being inconvenient, it was extremely painful; petals, sometimes soft, sometimes crisp, clawed at your throat like a tiger. They would build up, being released in clumps. Pink, purple, red, white...the colours most associated with love. Due to this agonising affliction, you guessed that you had developed unrequited feelings. The object was none other than the class pretty boy with the tragic backstory, Shouto Todoroki.

"Just tell him, (Y/n). You know it's never going to get better unless you do it!" Ashido whisper-yelled, seeing as though you were still in the classroom, and could be overheard at any time.

Burying your anguished expression in your hands, you let out a muffled, "You don't understand! How can I do that? He's so perfect, and I'm just...me. Besides, if I already have Hanahaki, doesn't that mean he isn't interested in me?"

"(Y/n)." The usually-bouncy pink-tinted girl scolded. "It so doesn't work that way! The disease isn't a way of telling if your feelings are unrequited! You just think they are, but it's all in your head! Right, girls?"

A number of heads bobbed at this, although no-one else actually piped up. It was depressing to witness you in such a sorry state, for, before contracting the illness, you were the life and soul of the class. Everybody immediately noticed your drastic change in attitude, despite your best efforts to hide it. Even Bakugou stomped over to your desk and told you to man up. It might have seemed harsh, but there was a genuine concern somewhere beneath that furious façade. Just glancing at those monotone features, bi-coloured hair and similarly stunning eyes, made your heart flutter, with both nervousness and adoration. When you locked eyes, your cheeks exploded with colour, and you felt another surge of petals. It was the same sensation as being sick, only deadlier. Plus, if this condition went untreated, the threat of death would forever loom over you. There was treatment, of course, but it required the removal of your feelings and memories of Shouto, and you weren't even willing to consider it, no matter how much your parents begged.

"Ooh, that's the bell! Thank god - I'm starving!" Ashido fled the scene after checking on you one more time.

Instead of trekking to the cafeteria, you decided to remain in the classroom for the duration of lunch. You had no food, but that didn't matter; food didn't exactly seem appealing at the moment. Students bounded out of the room, quickly leaving you alone. At least, that's what you thought, and hoped. However, a warm, comforting hand on your shoulder told you otherwise. Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you turned, half-expecting to see one of the girls. Needless to say, it wasn't any of them. In fact, it was Shouto. With puffy, red eyes and a scratchy throat, you weren't really in the best position to chat. You wanted to convey this, but as soon as you looked into his eyes and saw the worry, you found that you couldn't do anything to keep him away.

Reaching a hand to gather the stray tears, he asked, "What's wrong? I heard you talking about something earlier...a disease? Do you need to see a doctor? I can take you to one, if you need - I usually visit my mum in the hospital anyway."

Oh shit. Steeling your nerves, you responded, "N-No, thank you. Everything's fine...just fine."

"(L/n)..."

"Hmm?"

Shouto's hand stayed exactly where it was, putting you on edge. Suddenly, you started gagging. You grabbed your throat, in a futile effort to stop the flow of petals. Every time it happened was terrifying, saturating your mind with fear. You felt the tingling, but you kept your mouth closed. You wouldn't let him see such a pitiful and hopeless display. He probably didn't care anyway, and was simply asking out of what he saw as an obligation to a classmate. His mismatched eyes reflected a startling uncertainty, one he wasn't even sure he was capable of expressing. He knew something bad was happening, but he felt powerless to stop it. That scared him more than anything - not being able to save the person he loved most. Your cheeks began puffing out, more and more petals filling them. All at once, they spilled out of your mouth, landing on the desk in a pool of blood and tears. This gravely contrasted with the delightful aroma exuded from the petals.

"Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same." – Helen Keller.

[Word Count: 824]