torrent | shoto todoroki

三 | anger

"WHY COULDN'T SHE JUST—" Todoroki grit his teeth, another punch bruising his knuckles as he smacked the punching bag farther from himself. He talked to no one in particular, voicing out his own thoughts as he reacted brashly against the lifeless piece of equipment. It was a surprise he hadn't already torn the bag compared to the other three he'd powered through.

"If she had just held in her breath," He said, pulling back from the bag to take a breath.

Sweat coated his forehead and soaked his tank top. Any other day, his father would've been proud to see him train as hard as he was doing now, but it was hard to even look Shoto in the eyes now. He looked different, almost like it wasn't him. "I told her she was clumsy. If she just—" He let out a breath, leaning against the punching bag.

There was a dull ache in his fingers, the only thing holding them together being the dirtied bandages he'd wrapped them with. The pain in his shoulders increased as he bent down, his hair dropping in front of him and blocking part of his view. "If she had just," Despite the pain in his joints, he stood up starkly again.

With a swift right hook to the bag, it burst, ice protruding from it and appearing on the other side of its leather cover. "LISTENED!" Shoto shouted the last word, another breath leaving his lips as he looked down. The area around him was covered in frost and the ice had reached the chain that held the punching bag up.

He quickly slid back, the chain freezing to the point of snapping as the bag fell down, its sand pouring out onto the floor. The dual-haired boy dropped to the floor, rapid breaths leaving his lips as he tilted his head back. His hair was slick against his forehead as he gazed pointlessly up at the ceiling of the training room.

How long have I been training? 

He kept all the windows closed and preferred to train in the dark today, so he couldn't tell. There was a small knock on the sliding door, but it slid open anyway: courtesy of siblings to knock and still enter. "Shoto? I heard a noise, so I came to check on you. I brought water too," Fuyumi's soft voice announced, her head peeking into the darkness.

Her glasses glinted as her eyes landed on her little brother. "You're really working out, Shoto. I'm glad, but you might get hurt. Don't you think you should—" She was cut off with a stark refusal, his pupils narrowed into a glare as he stared at his sister coldly. Fuyumi pursed her lips for a bit before opening her mouth, almost like a fish.

She glanced at the floor, closing her mouth again before setting down the glass of water by the door. She slid the door shut and Shoto could hear her footsteps retreat, a pounding returning in his head as he groaned. How long have I been awake? He couldn't even remember when he woke up. 

Lazily, he scooted over to the glass of water and downed it quickly, sweat pouring over his skin like waves as he laid against the floor of the training room. He knew some sand would stick to his clothes, but he couldn't honestly care less at the moment. Plus, it's not like he did the laundry, Fuyumi did it.

He blinked tiredly, feeling his eyes start to droop shut. Todoroki didn't completely hate being home. It was okay for what it was; it was home, but not really. He still preferred it more when his father was out and about. He wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Aizawa's stupid 'sending students home after loss' thing.

Todoroki couldn't care less.

It was her fault she died anyway, right? Y/n should've looked out for herself. He'd told her thousands of times that she was clumsy and that she should be more careful. This was karma for all of the times she hadn't listened to him up until now. His brows furrowed and he massaged his temple, attempting to fight off the growing sleepiness.

Yet, no matter how many times he moved his arm or rubbed his skin against the sand, he couldn't fight off the itching need to sleep. Shoto slowly closed his eyes, letting out a breath as darkness filled his vision quickly. In his dream, it felt like he was falling, and then it was cold. His dream felt different all of a sudden.

He watched as Y/n stood on the bridge, his mouth opening to yell at her. However, all that came out was bubbles. He grew confused, looking at where he was. He was in the water. The scenery had suddenly changed, his eyes glancing up to see her on the bridge; he was no longer at one of the bridge's ends.

Her hand was tightly laced with a little kid's, a determined look in her eyes as she hauled the kid up. She had pulled them above herself, tugging them onto the bridge. The little kid scampered onto the wood, running into the arms of his worried mother who quickly hugged him comfortingly. 

Y/n leaned up, about to stand up on the bridge before freezing as a loud creak resounded. She shouted something from the bridge, her eyes landing on someone in the crowd of people who gasped and stared at her with wide eyes. Shoto followed her gaze, his eyes landing on himself who looked distraught beyond despair and tired.

He remembered that day. The villains who'd terrorized a park full of people and left a kid hanging on a bridge. He remembered Y/n's heroic acts and how she'd seemed so relieved once she saved the child. He couldn't wait to hear her talk about it more, but she never got to. Shoto watched, still stuck in the water as she glanced nervously at his other-self.

He remembered as the bridge creaked underneath her before falling apart, her figure drifting into the torrent rapids of the river underneath and disappearing for what seemed like forever.