Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Shouto Todoroki

Requested by: yanaheavenly

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Self-Harm, Bullying.

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Each cut symbolised a different struggle, a burden far too heavy to shove aside. You just couldn't conquer them, even with the eternal devotion of your class' pretty boy. At this point, your relationship was obvious - how could it be anything less, when he sought out your touch at any opportunity? He was gorgeous, and brimming with years' worth of bottled-up compassion, that he was finally able to release. He needed you.

But did he? Really?

The support from your own class was overwhelming (you swore that half, at the very minimum, would find insult), but others...well, jealousy and contempt seemed to run rife. Their stance wasn't veiled at all. They didn't care.

No-one did. Not really.

Your anguish was...indecipherable, even to your closest companion. You never allowed him to see the manifestations of such a powerful, yet negative emotion. If he truly loved you as he claimed, then he would worry. As an aspiring hero student, one who had already encountered the both League of Villains and Stain...he couldn't afford a single distraction. That was the root of your guilt - forget about your problems, for you were a problem. Someone with a morbid history of self-mutilation and spiralling depression should never have even met him. A bond shouldn't have formed, and you shouldn't now be dating! Ultimately, this would prove fatal, the worst decision he ever made. In fact, you were certain he was already wallowing in regret. So you stopped texting him as frequently, stopped clinging to him in the halls.

But that bright, cheerful smile persisted.

It was a complete fabrication, though no-one noticed. This lent credence to how you viewed yourself: worthless, scum, weak...unlovable. Your heart ached for someone to acknowledge your sorrow, for Shouto to sew it up and cradle it in his arms. You imagined him trailing kisses along your scars. And in your vision...he cried, fiercer than you had ever seen before. It devastated you. How evil...how much of a monster were you, that you could knowingly cause him such grief? Shouto rarely displayed anything other than indifference toward his class, or affection toward you. He didn't deserve...

Didn't you swear that his happiness was of the highest importance? Why was this dissolving? Why was everything you did wrong? Why were you so, incredibly useless?

Your sleeves were permanently rolled down, but you still tugged, as if they might grow larger, so as to eclipse your hands as well. You wouldn't show your scars. Even your hero costume hid them, thankfully. It rubbed, sure, but if you must sacrifice comfort for concealment...you would, every single goddamn time. You tried to replace the thoughts of pain, of red, of inferiority, with nice things. But you couldn't. As you approached the door to Class 1-A, you accidentally stumbled into range of a conversation...about you. It was the usual suspects - girls from General Studies, who took an almost obsessive interest in your boyfriend. They didn't think you deserved him. And maybe they were right. They noted your appearance as too ugly for the likes of Shouto, a dashing young man with the face and figure of a god. 

Maybe they were right.

Of course they were! How were you supposed to greet him now, forcing yourself to play the part of a happy-go-lucky soul, with zero-cares-in-the-world?

Before your fingers connected with the door, you fled. You left behind the class, the building...and the boy you adored. You escaped to your dorm room, where you could curl up in-between the sheet and panic, as you awaited the scolding of a lifetime from Mr Aizawa...or you could cut, and hope beyond hope that the blood gave you that light-headed feeling - so you wouldn't be able to focus on your demons...on all the truths that spilled from the lips of those girls. They were truths. You couldn't hold a candle to Shouto, in quirk or looks. You just...loved him, so much, and...how could you have turned down his confession? Shouto was the sole reason for your survival. His image saved your skin from deeper lacerations. You knew that he blamed himself for injuries caused to Midoriya and Iida, but his heart sat you on a golden pedestal...

...it would wilt like a mournful, dying rose, if you were to die in a puddle of blood and tears.

Or perhaps it wouldn't, and you were exaggerating his feelings. You just...you couldn't disappoint him so thoroughly, you couldn't trample on his love like that. If it was even love, at this point. What if he had coordinated some elaborate joke, months in the making, with those same, trash-talking girls...what if he was toying with you?

He wouldn't...

Would he?

Slowly, the knife traced over the remnants of your last self-therapy session, dried blood still stuck on in remembrance. The most wretched sobs echoed off the walls, able to be heard by anyone standing nearby. But no-one had a reason to be here. You didn't consider how worried Shouto would be, or that he might ask Mr Aizawa's permission to search. You couldn't have expected him to grant it. And you didn't expect Shouto to make a beeline for the dormitories. So you pressed the knife further, savouring each small bead of blood that rolled down. Within minutes, your skin and the floor below were covered in a dripping crimson. This was worse than usual, but the relief it provided was unfathomable to someone far removed from the urge to harm. It was a little scary, but something you looked forward to.

The pain never ceased.

You didn't care.

Not until the door flung open, revealing the sight of his blood-drenched lover. The noise of wood hitting wall was such that you startled. The knife, already slick from that disgusting liquid, slipped, embedding itself into your thigh. You winced. But you didn't want to scream.

You were caught. How were you supposed to explain this? How could you brush off his concern? 'I'm practising pain endurance' - that wouldn't work. Shouto might have been dense, but he knew you. As you risked a glance at his eyes, your heartbeat picked up. The fire within was so intense. Tears pricked at the corners. No, no, no! this wasn't meant to happen! He wasn't meant to find you, in such a useless state! It was pitiful...he shouldn't be tethered to someone like you. This was his exit.

This is his way out! Why isn't he leaving? No...no! I beg of you, don't get any closer!

Your mind was racing, but your lips were dry. They refused to voice your confusion. They wouldn't even let you protest, as Shouto rushed to your side with a towel. He began cleaning up the blood, in silence. You couldn't watch. You couldn't speak. You couldn't do anything!

"That isn't true. You can do lots of things, (Y/n)."

Did I...say something? No...he just knows me. He knows my mind. So...then why couldn't he tell that my smiles were fake? Was he just ignoring me?

The guilt crashed down like a thousand tidal waves. How could you do this to him? 

"Why? Please tell me why you did this. It's okay to take your time, but...I need to know."

You nodded, wondering just how stupid you truly were. Why did his concern surprise you? A small, rational part of your brain yelled out in frustration. He worried because he loved you! Your bodies were so close now...you could see him trembling. He was scared - scared for you, and for what he could have lost. Despite your insecurities, you were a positive influence on him. You taught him all different kinds of cuddles, of kisses...gods, he would have killed to kiss you for the rest of eternity. He needed you. He really did! What sort of hero enjoyed being unable to help, unable to save their dearest person?

"If you can't tell me right now," He continued, not letting loose the sigh that would have worsened your condition. "then let me help you bandage these cuts. I'll explain things to Mr Aizawa, and we can get some food and cuddle."

This one act couldn't displace the years of bullying and self-hatred which led you to such a crescendo, but it could open the path for change, and for the betterment of your life. It all started with Shouto, and with the love he offered up to you.

[Word Count: 1401]