~ Third Person P.O.V ~

"Falling. The first of many fear we ever have, falling from high structures onto hard pavement. Falling in love, into the sacrificial kisses of my loving devil . . ."
—BisexualCricket, Poetry Journal

I am so sorry . . . Izu angst ahead . . . (HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS)

At this point, Izuku wasn't sure what he was doing.

He and Shoto had grown to know a bit about one another — naturally, staying away from the heavier topics such as life before college, soulmates, etc. They still didn't know much about one another, as to be expected, yet they had a clear enough understanding that they both had gone through something before the met. It takes one to know one, as they say.

Yes, Izuku had made significant progress a few nights ago when he had hung out with everyone but . . . was that even enough? He pushed himself right into the belly of the beast that night, praying the outcome would be joyous and he wouldn't have to live in isolation anymore. Yet as soon as all the excitement came to a bittersweet end, he slipped right back down the rabbit hole. His mind once again becoming the relentless prison ward he had come to fear, trapping him behind the iron bars of his very existence. Of course, it only happened when he was alone.

And as of lately, Izuku had been alone for long periods of time. His Design and Programming the Web class had yet to begin, only a week left before it had started up and he'd have to attend a class with other students. Meaning when Shoto left, going who knows where all day, he was left to manage himself. His broken, damaged, tainted self.

God, he really hoped he would be better by now . . . that he still wouldn't have this plaguing feeling that he was still being watched. He could still feel the ghost of those damned keen and calculating blue eyes inspecting him, berating him, robbing him of all his dignity. Forceful and hot hands scathing across his skin with sinful intentions, a stinging sensation erupting throughout his entire body.

Fuck, he still felt it all to this day.

Without even realizing it, Izuku's hands flew up to his chest. However, unlike the other times, it wasn't to put himself through his 'daily hell' no — it was as if he were shielding the clothed body part. Protecting it from someone that wasn't even there anymore.

He's dead, Izuku.

So why did he still feel this way? His tormentor was gone, deceased, kicked the fucking bucket — whatever the hell you want to call it; so why the hell was he still broken?! Izuku's mind, body, and soul was far beyond repair at this point and the person to blame had been dead for two years! And it seemed as though with each passing day, instead of getting better he was getting worse. 

The worst part about this is for a brief second . . . that one night, he thought he'd be okay. Not only did he hang out with strangers, but got chased by police officers, he let Shoto — the mysterious, handsome, two-centuries-year-old man touch him. Without, nearly, any complications. Izuku had felt something that night, he hadn't felt in a long time — 

He felt hope.

But just as every other positive emotion he had once held onto, that spark of hope did not flicker into a burning flame it died out instead. The crumbled, weak, and pathetic ashes surging through his nerves and painting his glass heart a deep-rooted black. Izuku had done everything in his power to keep that small spark of fire alive; because by now those emotions that flooded him the past few years had grown frigid to the touch — and he was so damn cold.

Izuku's eyes flickered over towards the dorm door for the hundredth time, praying for someone — anyone at this point — would show up. As long as he wasn't alone the sinking feeling wouldn't shadow him as much, but the more he was by himself the stronger it got. He was holding on by the thinnest of strings, dangling over the treacherous profundity waters below — which were teeming with every insecurity, dark feeling, and weaknesses Izuku had. 

Just hold on, damn it!

Shuffling back onto his bed, Izuku could feel the breath being pulled from his weakened lungs. Labored pants pushing from his lips as his nails pushed past the collar of his shirt, beginning to scratch at the bare flesh of his torso. It was almost as if his chest was that tiny piece of string at that moment, the tips of his fingers gripping hard as his nails scratched. 

But his attempts were all fruitless.

For he faltered, just a tiny slip-up, sending his cascading downwards . . . spiraling . . . soon, he'd be drowning.

Memories of another pair of hands dancing across his skin haunted him fiercely, robbing him of any ounce of breath he had left. A swarm of bees had pricked and buzzed underneath the dermis layer of his skin, the sickening sensation crawling through every inch of his body.

"Awe, where're you going, baby?"

Those damned words! One by one, every sentence, every word, every phrase he has every used came trickling into the forefront of his mind. Izuku heart was close to shattering at this point, every single crack it had accumulated over the years finally reaching its tipping point. He could practically hear the fragments of the caged organ chipping off, vibrating violently as more and more fell off.

"Get the fuck back here, I'm not done with you!"

Silent streams of tears rippled down his cheeks like rainfall on a stormy night, the hot trails his tears left becoming sticky and slick on his face. However, no sobs broke through his lips, for he was so far down the rabbit hole his entire body had transmuted still with paralyzing fear. It had been quite some time since he had last felt like this like there was nothing anyone could say or do to bring him out of his trance . . . Now, Izuku was only surrounded by the words, sentences, and phrases that haunted him every single day of his life.

"Stop squirming, the more you fight me the longer this'll last."

Izuku had fully shifted back to his past self by now, feeling every influx of breath he and his tormentor had took. Every fiber in his body being lit aflame with trepidation. The gentle, broken, pleading he had once used.

"It wouldn't have to hurt if you would have just held still like I asked . . . This is all your fault, Izu."

The green-haired male had slowly sunk down onto his mattress, the room around him spinning relentlessly as his breathing diminished. God, please make it stop!

"Midoriya?"

He was too far down, the muffled ringing of Shoto's voice barely reaching his ears as he rocked back and forth. Gasping and sputtering on the little air he had left, clinging to it for dear life as his vision fogged over.

Shoto had been done with classes for a while now, however, he was out getting food for himself and Izuku — figuring his roommate would like a change from ramen noodles. Only to find the boy lying on his side, shaking, and crying. He was by his side in an instant, eyes darting across his frame in search of any physical cause of pain, only to find none.

"Midoriya, it's me . . . It's Todoroki, hey — what happened, what do you need me to do?" he asked, trying his best to maintain the panic in his voice. Heterochromatic eyes widened as he remembered what Izuku had said the last time he found him in this similar state.

"You're safe. I promise, whatever you think is happening isn't — you're safe." Shoto whispered gently, tentatively reaching out and wrapping his hand around Izuku's. 

That small trigger wasn't enough to bring Izuku back completely, only allowing him to breathe properly and slightly focus on the elder man before him. Emerald eyes were blown wide with heart-racing, fear-striking, breathtaking fear. The kind of fear Shoto had only seen once throughout his long life . . .

Izuku gripped back onto Shoto's hand, ragged breaths escaping him. "Make it stop . . . Please, I'm begging you," his voice was low, coming out in a shattered whimper as his shoulders shook.

"Make what stop, Midoriya?" Shoto pressed, bringing his free hand up to pull Izuku's other hand from his hair. "Make what stop?" he repeated after a few minutes of silence.

"His — His hands, Todoroki . . . I can feel them . . . they're, ah, they're everywhere!" Izuku sobbed, throwing all caution to the wind as he buried his face into the male's shoulder — still lying down as he did so.

No.

No. No. No.

He knew it was then that Shoto had pieced the dots together; and he sure as hell didn't like where they led. God, please let him be wrong . . . Let this be some big misunderstanding, and it wasn't true. There was only one other person he had ever known to act nearly the exact same way Izuku did, and fuck — it wasn't good. Maybe that was why he had been so intrigued by the boy at first, because Izuku reminded him of his two best friends . . .

Strong-willed, quiet, and sarcastic like Dabi.

. . . But broken-off, cautious, and damaged like Shinsou.

Shoto knew, damn it, he knew without a doubt that Izuku had been sexually assaulted.

Hello Cricket Cultists . . .

Fuck, guys.

I have a bit to talk about for this chapter (you can always skip if you're not interested, but keep in mind this will help clear up a few things).

As I have mentioned before, Izuku went through something similar to what my mother did. This was the soul purpose behind me even creating this book, it was like my way of telling my mother's journey in a sense. 

Now some of you may be thinking, 'Cricket, if Izu was sexually assaulted and doesn't like people touching him and stuff - why did he have that 'bonding' moment with Shoto just now?'. Well, most victims respond differently in certain situations, it honestly just depends on what they went through. And with Izuku, when creating him as a character I knew the from the get-go the things he needed to feel the most throughout this story was safe.

I could have easily played this off as 'Shoto and Izuku are soulmates so he's automatically going to feel safe with him'. Now this may be true, but that's also so fucking lazy and just . . . meh. Which brings me back to the 'Police officer chase' scene. It was then that Izuku had developed kind of a 'bond' with Shoto, because by grabbing him and helping him when he was paralyzed with fear then - it had become instilled in Izuku's mind that he'd be there for him again. 

Not only that, but when Izuku fell down the 'rabbit hole', remember it had been a long time since he felt like that. So if there was even a chance someone could help him out of it, he was going to leap at it with open arms.

Now, obviously more on Izuku and Shoto's past will be revealed next chapter. So to any of my readers who have gone through/ or know someone who had gone through any form of assault I will make sure to be as gentle as possible when writing what he went through.

I love you all, so fucking much!

Until we meet again!!!