1 | Desire

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This story is not intended to promote or encourage actions/behaviors such as suicide, self-harm, purging, or eating disorders.

Todoroki didn't know how long it had taken him to realize that he wasn't happy. It seemed like each passing day had been a subtle contribution to his growing struggle to find joy in anything at all. Although he'd recognized how he began to constantly feel like he was either sad or empty, he figured that the feelings would pass with time. As stultifying months passed, however, his condition only deteriorated further.

I think I'm the reason why I feel like this, Todoroki told himself while taking a moment to breathe from his hefty heaps of hellish homework. I'm choosing not to find the good things in what I'm doing. Yet, that doesn't make any sense. I've been so desperate to finally grasp onto happiness again. I just want to be happy. Is that so much to ask? He stared down at his assignment in silence, but he exhaled slowly once he noticed that his tears were slashing through his vision. I just...don't want to do this. I can't even think. Can't I go to bed and pretend that none of my responsibilities exist?

Glancing over at his futon, Todoroki blinked away his tears. I have to get perfect grades. I can't slack off. I have to get this done. No matter how many times I tell myself that, I still can't concentrate. I want to sleep. I don't want to think about this at all. It used to feel great to get my assignments done and be rewarded with a good grade for my efforts. Now...Todoroki wiped the residual stains of his tears from his eyes and stood up. Maybe some soba will cheer me up.

Once Todoroki convinced himself that making cold soba would be worth the effort, he dragged himself into the kitchen. Thankfully, cold soba required minimal effort to prepare, but even then, Todoroki still felt as though it was far too draining of a task. So, after filling up a bowl with his soba, Todoroki sighed in relief once he sat down to eat.

A dose of instant happiness. That's what I want. This should make me feel good. Or, at least better than now. Eating to cope doesn't sound like a good idea when I'm already fat enough, but if it helps at all, then it helps, so I'll take it.

Using his chopsticks, Todoroki plucked a clump of noodles from his bowl and slurped them down. The taste of the soba was blander than he remembered, but as he swallowed more noodles, he found himself vacantly concentrating on eating rather than his thoughts or feelings. Todoroki wasn't particularly hungry, but the desire to have a distraction from reality kept his chopsticks moving.

After finishing off his soba, Todoroki thought, Maybe I'll get more. I made plenty. I'm really not hungry, but...

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