epiphany//euphoria - iv
Word Count: 1k
Week 11
You said you were more than unrequited love
Pain. Searing, throbbing pain.
Her lungs wreathed in sharp, sporadic jabs. Every time she took a breath, her chest fought back with guns blazing.
(Y/N) clung onto her shirt as tears cascaded sideways into the pillow. It was a miserable, miserable sight. She doesn’t even recognize herself anymore. (Y/N) was just a shell. She was just unrequited love--the last thing she wanted to be.
She used to be so much more. She used to be a determined ball of energy. The girl who saw the best in everyone. The girl who was willing to fail a dozen times and get up again. She used to be everything she wants to be now.
Stop pitying yourself, she seethes. You can’t want something and do nothing to get it.
Her coughs eventually died down into small, labored pants. A wave of exhaustion knocked her over the head, but she was far too gone to have fallen asleep.
Was she resentful of her condition? No. Not anymore. It’s gone on long enough for her to let it go.
(Y/N) stares limply at her cold, numb fingers as she contemplates what to do next. She skipped school today in fear of a horrible coughing episode and like her instincts had said, it happened. No doubt someone will come to check up on her the minute school ends.
Scrambling her hand across her bedside desk for her camera, she snatches the small device and held it up, scrolling through the many photos she has taken.
There are ones of her friends laughing and chatting away, delicate ones of Shouto, and pictures of bright, sunny days. Coffee by the rain, cloudy days, rainy roads--everything was captured on that camera. There was such a diversity in the small frames and yet they were all taken with love. Taken with life. Taken with unconditional care.
With a thought as gentle as that, a deep sigh escapes her icy lips.
Maybe it was better this way.
Maybe it was a lesson to be learned.
A quiet knock against her door snapper her out of her thoughts as panic starts to build in her stomach despite knowing that it would happen sooner or later.
Shuffling out of bed, she gives an okay for the person to come in.
Ochako’s bright, rosy eyes peek around the door before quietly closing the door with a muffled slam.
“How have you been feeling?”
“Horrible.”
There was no point in lying about it anymore. Every inch of her was sensitive to sound and touch while her head and chest never stopped firing bullets in every corner that was available.
“I just want to eat and cry,” she replies sarcastically, garnering a small chuckle from her friend who joined her on the bed.
It stayed silent like that for a while. (Y/N)’s labored breaths became relaxed as her mood started to lighten along with it.
“Maybe you’re right,” she started hesitantly, a tinge of repentance in her quiet voice. “Maybe I should get the surgery.”
Ochaco chokes on her own spit. She was beyond ecstatic but the sudden change of attitude alarmed her. (Y/N) isn’t losing her mind, is she?
“I don’t know. I’m going to wait a few more weeks, see what happens, you know?”
Ochaco gives her the most deadpan look she could muster, a hint of friendly annoyance ever-present in her brilliant brown eyes. No response, but one wasn’t necessary. (Y/N) already knew what she was thinking.
It’s a step in the right direction.
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It all happened so quickly, no one knew how to respond.
She was supposed to be okay.
She was supposed to be okay.
Instead, flickers of astounding red lights emitted from ambulance cars shone into the darkest crevices of the night.
She was supposed to be okay
She waited too long.
Long enough for her to drown.
Long enough for everything to fall apart.
The U.A Dorms were flooded with confusion as teachers and officials ran about, doing their best to calm the calamity.
Where is (Y/N)?
Shouto glanced around frantically, looking for the lost girl with a deep pit residing in his stomach. Everything was wrong.
Then it hit him like a freight train without breaks.
She was why the ambulance was here. And he wasn’t there to help her.
“(Y/N)...” he mustered out ever so weakly you’d think his lungs were collapsing. It felt like they were. It felt like the oxygen was ripped from his chest and it was caving in on itself.
He could barely make out the defeated figure of Ochako who’s sobs fell into deaf ears as he took slow steps towards the entrance of the doors. Everything else around him was a silent blur the moment realization struck him.
Did he know why she was in the ambulance? No. Not with her secretive walls that were built a while ago.
That didn’t matter to him now.
Nothing did.
All he could think about was how he wasn’t there for her.
She was deteriorating.
Rotting away.
And he didn’t do anything.
The poor girl.
How long has she been waiting?
Who cares?
(Y/N) is hurt. More than hurt.
She must be so scared right now.
.
.
.
She’s not the only one who’s so scared right now.
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The students were told that (Y/N) has fallen ill and is in a desperate state. Shouto was told that he cannot visit her until she’s stable. They refused to tell him what ‘stable’ meant.
The thundering tic-tok on his clock nearly drove him mad as he paces back and forth in his room frantically late at night. He knew that he was not the only one awake. The entire class may as well be.
His fingers were cold to the touch despite the fiery heat on his left side. He made sure not to alight something by mistake.
Everything rang inside Shouto’s head like a frag-grenade. Questions, panic, fear, ran about like a lioness in her den. It was relentless and hungry.
The ticking became louder as the silence started screaming at him and the thought of his best friend in a hospital bed clinging onto dear-life and—
He broke.
He sank down, down onto the mat floor of his room.
There was no more screaming. No more ticking. Just a bout of quiet wails.
Finally, Shouto Todoroki broke.
And (Y/N)?
Poor, poor (Y/N).
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