Shoto Todoroki X Reader

Chapter 35 : I need you

The days dragged on, stretching into an agonizing blur as I lay in the hospital bed, trapped in a world of darkness. A coma felt surreal, like being caught in a never-ending dream where I could hear faint voices but couldn't respond.

Time felt irrelevant. I wasn't aware of whether it was day or night, but I could sense the presence of those who cared about me. Shoto was there often, his warmth and energy drawing me toward consciousness, even when I couldn't reach him.

"Y/N," I would hear him say, his voice filled with worry and desperation. "Please come back to me. I need you."

In those moments, I fought against the darkness, willing myself to awaken, but every time I tried, it felt as though an invisible weight held me down. I could feel the threads of my life tugging at me, urging me to return, but the darkness was all-consuming.

Weeks passed, and outside my hospital room, life continued. I could sense the shifts in the atmosphere—the quiet murmurs of my family, the hushed voices of friends, the occasional laughter that felt so distant. I felt a tug at my heart each time I heard Shoto's name mentioned, a reminder of the bond we shared.

One afternoon, as I drifted in and out of consciousness, I felt a familiar presence at my bedside. I could hear the steady rhythm of Shoto's breath, feel the warmth radiating from him.

"Y/N, I'm here," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "I miss you. Please wake up. We have so much left to do together."

I wanted to respond, to tell him I was trying, but the words wouldn't come. I could almost visualize him sitting there, his hand clasping mine tightly, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave me.

"Fuyumi made your favorite meal today," he continued, his tone softening. "I wish you could taste it. I know how much you love it."

His voice was filled with memories of laughter and shared moments, reminders of the life we'd built together. The warmth in his words made me want to fight harder against the darkness.

"Remember our picnic?" he asked, a hint of a smile breaking through the sorrow. "You brought those amazing sandwiches, and we laughed so much. I want to have that again, with you by my side."

A flicker of warmth spread through me at the memory, and I focused all my energy on breaking through the barrier that held me captive. I imagined the sunlight on my face, the feeling of grass beneath us, and Shoto's laughter ringing in my ears.

But just as I reached for the light, a wave of pain washed over me, pulling me back into the void. I fought against it, clinging to the image of Shoto, of all the moments we had yet to share.

One night, as I lay in the darkness, I sensed a shift in the atmosphere. The room felt heavier, more intense. I could hear the hushed tones of my friends and family, worry palpable in their voices. Shoto's presence remained steadfast, a grounding force amidst the chaos.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "If you can hear me, please... I need you to come back. I can't do this without you. You're my strength."

His words cut through the darkness like a beacon, illuminating the path back to consciousness. I focused on him, on the love that tethered us together, and willed my body to respond. I felt a flicker of movement, a subtle shift in my fingers, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, the worry in Shoto's voice deepened. He stayed by my side, refusing to leave, even when the doctors had to pull him away for breaks.

"I'll be right back," he would say, brushing his fingers across my forehead. "Just hold on for me."

I longed to tell him I was fighting, to assure him that I was still here, that I wouldn't leave him. But all I could do was listen as he recounted our memories, filling the silence with stories of our time together.

Then, one fateful day, I felt a shift within me—a crack in the darkness. I concentrated all my energy, focusing on Shoto's voice, on the love we shared, and willed myself to break through the surface.

"Y/N!" The sound of Shoto's voice pierced through the fog, and I felt warmth wash over me as I strained to respond.

I could hear the beeping of the machines, the rustling of fabric, the whispers of my loved ones, and then, finally, I felt a familiar hand enveloping mine. With a surge of determination, I fought through the haze, inching closer to the light that beckoned me.

In that moment, I felt a flicker of hope igniting within me. I wouldn't give up. Not for Shoto. Not for us.

And just as the light enveloped me, I finally slipped back into the world of the living, ready to embrace the fight that lay ahead