10 | Who am I?

                                    

                                          
Shouto Todoroki


                          
This is the first time I've witnessed Bakugou weep and inevitably plunge himself into a lamentable state of vulnerability. The crystalline rivers snaking down his cheeks force a dagger through my heart, and I soon find myself unable to repress the unshed tears I'd reprimanded. I frantically blink, as if this will replenish my meager hopes.
                          
"Do I have to spell it all out for you? Todoroki, I... I fucking love you, dammit!" 
                          
Bakugou, I cannot believe for even a moment that you love me. You're pitying me—you're mocking me. Someone of such a high caliber could never sink so low as to fall for an animal like me. But I... When my eyes drift to you, they encompass your entire being and fixate on you. When I think of you, my heart flutters. Bakugou, I believe that I love you. Ahah... It's almost as if it would be better for me to discard my worthless body that lives for only a fleeting moment in order to make you smile again. The abuser cannot abuse if they no longer exist, correct?
                          
Before my mind can thoroughly comprehend Bakugou's impulsive words, a dependable arm cradles my head, and another one secures my torso. The world flashes by in a blinding blur as my lips connect with Bakugou's. I hardly have the opportunity to compute the fact that he's dragged me into a kiss, but as reality thrusts its behemoth of a body on top of me, I conclude that playing Bakugou's game will release me from future regrets. As such, the oceans of tears I'd bottled up pour out from my eyes and begin to cascade with the swiftly falling streams of rain.
                          
I-I'm crying? Tch! Do you understand how grueling it is to retain my emotions? For them to bypass the barrage of barriers I created in self-defense... 
                          
Do you know what this signifies, Shouto? Weakness. He's using you. He wants to humiliate you, like you did to him. How flaccid your petty defenses must be. It's a sin for you to love someone like him—someone leagues above you in virtually all fields. But he's trying to entertain himself by torturing your emotions, because he's acutely aware of the correct cards to pull to provoke a reaction of his liking. You aren't worth his love. You were created to be disposed of. So go and die for him if you really love him. Your love is a poison, Shouto. It's slowly killing all of the people you give it to. Why do you exist when your existence yields only noxious plumes of poison?
                          
My eyelids peel back, exposing my eyes to the nipping wind grazing across them. Every impulse consuming my body issues an order to stay my emotions fast to apprehend the possibility of digging further into my instability, but it's as if a switch flips in my head—I told myself to play along with Bakugou's game, and that is what I am currently doing. Struggling against the will dictating my actions, I reciprocate Bakugou's kiss; the warmth of his lips against the frigidity of the rain in the night soaks my mind in a seemingly euphoric haze.
                          
My love is a poison... Why do you strive to convert every second of my life into what feels like I'm writhing in my death throes? Who...are you? Why am...I unable to recall? My recollections of you indicate that I had affiliated myself with you before the day I so foolishly mutilated what the three of us had.
                          
How oblivious you are. Don't make me laugh, Shouto. Who am I? Perhaps you could say that I am the ghost you see occupying the space on the other side of all reflective materials—namely the mirror—whenever you step into the picture. I am the one conducting your nightmares with a malevolent sneer as you toss and turn in bed. I am the one that follows you regardless of where you wander—escape is impossible, but you most prominently see me in the light.
                          
As I open my mouth to speak after our lips part, no words are ejected. Regurgitate the words he fed you with, Shouto. "I-I love you, too," finally slips through the air.