Cold Like Death: Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Chapter 25: Rescue

I accidentally deleted this chapter and now I wanna kill myself...

Dabi's eyes narrowed in like a tractor beam to a man of shaggy baby blue hair. A man who cared oh so little for his own body from unkempt hair to patchy skin to horrendously chapped lips. His name was Shigaraki, a name given to him at a young age, and he rarely ever walked with an erect spine. Always a slump and hands buried within the pockets of whatever overcoat he wore be it a hoodie or his new ashy trench coat. As if expecting a grand spectacle, Shigaraki trudged into the small room, (Y/n)'s room, only to frown more than ever before as this wasn't an entertaining sight. Just a small ruckus of a patient's room, the heater buzzing on high, and his cold blooded prisoner sitting upon a bed with what was assumed to be dried stains crimson once red but brown due to age. Yet, upon Shigaraki's arrival, Dabi refused to leave his corner no matter what. His presence was profound! Overlapped with Dabi and (Y/n)'s seething detestment, the atmosphere was heavy. It's been weeks since they've last conversed, Dabi had no clue what exactly Shigaraki knows about him. Did Nyah tell Shigaraki about how he's been double crossing the League? Does Shigaraki know that Shun's alive? Does he know that Shoto's alive? Does he know anything and will it put his life on the line? Unless Nyah has something planned, she would've spilled the beans to Shigaraki long ago yet here everyone stood. Shigaraki, a man just checking in on the status of his prisoner. A Doctor, running tests. Dabi, the man watching over said prisoner.

Dabi wasn't joking... (Y/n) thought as she desperately fought to create as much distance as possible from Shigaraki and the Doctor. She had every reason to fear them as they're her worst nightmares yet. I don't get why they're here... At this point, I'm better off killing myself. I'm suffering... Why can't they leave me alone?

"I see neither of you are taking care of her," Shigaraki made a quick assumption. Yet, nobody responded verbally let alone physically. Just as Shigaraki pointed out, (Y/n) was a living corpse. Her skin was paled from the cold of her quirk, the roots of her hair, of which needed to be redyed, were as white as snow, her fingertips were black from frostbite as well. Those eyes of hers, they were paled from exhaustion and stress over the last few weeks, black rings to accompany them by. Even her clothes were dirty and tattered as she refused to accept anything given to her within this prison. Months upon months, maybe even years worth of abuse in just a few weeks time.

"Not like I can," Dabi finally found the strength to retort. "I'm keeping her warm as you instructed. She's alive isn't she?" That's all a lie. If he could do more to help, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Yet, he has access to nothing.

"Point made," Shigaraki took the hand from off his face and stared at (Y/n) boredly. "Show me the progress you've made."

Progress? (Y/n) wondered. Was it wrong to say she preferred Shigaraki with his hand on? At least then she can't see his buttass ugly face.

"Gladly," the Doctor grimaced. "Now, I haven't been able to awaken her quirk just yet, but I can control that finicky quirk of hers..."

(Y/n)'s eyes shot open. "S-Since when? How?" Can he really or is this just a bluff? All he's ever done is take my blood. Unless... Is it possible he transplanted me? (Y/n)'s thumb grazed a small lump that remained beneath the skin of her wrist. It appeared on it's own only a few days after she'd been taken here, but she paid no mind to its existence. She figured it was her skin healing since the Doctor's had to hook her up to a few IVs thanks to her lack of self care. Not once since coming here has (Y/n) willingly eaten or drank anything unless it was through a tube or... Force fed.

"You haven't tested it out yet?" Shigaraki immediately came to a conclusion.

"No... But it works," the Doctor's confidence was astonishing. He whipped out a large remote. It was like a game controller. Just big enough to be held within both hands but not so large it couldn't be held. On the middle of the box shaped device was a round dial that was a gradient of color from red to green with yellow and orange being in the middle. With a flip of a button, A red light bulb came to life as it occupied the top left corner meaning it was on standby and a bothersome electrical current coursed throughout (Y/n)'s arms and chest.