Categories > Anime/Manga > My Hero Academia
The Process of Elimination(a bnha fanfiction)(unfinished)
0 reviewsIzuku Midoriya was sure he liked girls. That is, of course, until a certain boy caught his unfortunate eye.(lost most of this story, so sorry if it seems random. Basically, Izuku doesn't know who A...
0Unrated
(This is after Midoriya was given surgery for his hanahaki the first time)
“Midoriya”
I blinked. How did he know my name?
“I-I think-I think you are the epitome of all the world's beauty at its finest. You are the shining light of this planet’s core ”
I nodded hesitantly.
“I don’t agree. But thank you”.
“Why not?”
“Why are we getting personal? We just met”
He froze.
Then, he laughed.
My eyes drank up his happy expression, feasting like a starving, rabid wolf on every single god forbidden detail, savoring every moment of his joyful expression. Of his lively face.
“Deku! We’re friends”
I trembled.
“I-”
I leaned closer to his direct earshot.
“I don’t remember you” I mumbled.
My cowardice is unparalleled.
He seemed shocked.
“Oh”
“I have to go”
He stood up and walked away, a sorrowful air about him.
As he trotted away, my throat released a groan of bitter despair.
My tongue had dried up.
My skin was now cold.
My mind was empty.
Things had unpaused.
But I couldn't see it, nor feel the brunt of its actions.
The world buzzed around me, but I wasn’t there.
I was 10,000 light years away, in the dark navy-blue sea of space. Even the roaring balls of fire known to these people as stars couldn’t touch me. I drifted through space, my mind slowly evaporating into the heavens.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aoyama couldn’t breathe. His sobs choked out in small portions, his throat tightened and his lungs constricted.
It was as though his intestines had disconnected and were now taking advantage of his organs, squeezing them like beans are in order to create soft brown paste.
It felt as though a clammy, heavy chain was wrapped about inside of him.
He could feel the fat tears streaking from his eyelids.
But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to feel.
He gripped his forehead,pinching the skin, trying to ground himself.
His face was unnaturally red.
His skull was blasting with searing pain, as though his brain was being branded on the very forefront.
His mouth and tongue felt raw,but also felt like rigid, hot gold flakes were stuck onto the taste buds, stabbing the upper part of his mouth and entangling the uvula. His teeth felt like they were each individually lined with an apple skin, one that was digging painfully into his pale gums.
As though a slain beast’s blood was seeping from his sinuses into his throat, causing it to feel as uncomfortable as possible, and acting as the-cherry-on-top for the poor boy’s suffering. His eyes were stinging, lining the cornea’s with a hot pink color.
His breath came in gasps.
This was the equivalent of being caught in a cold dark chamber, a chain being brought down onto your crumpled heart, over and over again, splitting it open.
Why would you inflict such pain on me?
Why would you hurt me like this?
All you had to do was listen.
Nobody knows who you even are.
How would that make you feel?
Why are you such a burden?
Why are you so ignorant?
Why are you trying so hard?
The thoughts buzzed throughout his skull, his heart beating as fast as a race horse anticipating another win.
Suddenly, two hands pounded into his chest.
Two more fingers popped a freezing ice cube into his mouth, where it immediately stuck onto his tongue.
He felt his body be raised, two hands grasping his sweaty red ones.
“Wake up”
The words were spoken in a strict tone, but Aoyama didn’t want to listen. His brain was a lost connection, the fizzing bubbling over the top like a newly poured carbonated drink.
The hands once more pressed into his chest.
It helped his lungs release their tightness, giving him some relief.
But it was still painful.
The ice cube had shocked him some, but the brain was still heaving weight like an overweight hippopotamus.
Suddenly, a hand brushed over Aoyama’s hair softly.
Aoyama opened his eyes, looking up to several blurred figures surrounding him.
He was in someone’s arms, being held as though he were a fragile ornament.
His vision had not yet cleared, despite his eyes being wide opened.Flashes were searing his brain, blow after blow gradually growing more painful. His heart was beating hard, His head pounding rhythmically to the heart’s pumping.
He was lifted up, and then the figure holding him moved fast. Despite the radio static clogging Aoyama’s ears, He could hear distant taps of feet slapping the ground.
“It’s my fault! I did it! It’s my fault!” someone screeched loudly, between sobs.
Aoyama muttered something inaudible, his voice crackling like wood dissipating in a fireplace.
A warm presence engulfed him, coating him like a weighted blanket.
He gradually slipped out of consciousness.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In Mina Ashido’s eyes, things were okay.
Well, somewhat normal at least.
In a two day span, two students were sent to the nurse.
Both were emergencies.
Ashido had considered the possibility of a disease spreading about, but ruled against it after reports of Aoyama’s hospitalization came back as an unfortunate aftermath to a bad panic attack.
Midoriya’s hospitalization was apparently due to a lung infection, or at least that’s what the school’s board of health said, to appease the worried parents.
The news had caught wind of the incidents, as though students from class-A were indestructible, god-like men and women and otherwise perfectly healthy beings.
As though an injured UA student was a shocking reality.
Ashido knew this was wrong.
Dark things had taken place within the UA walls this year, some of the most shocking, jaw-dropping incidents in UA history.
Ashido often wondered if this was true, or if they were able to cover up every other incident, and the minute they got comfortable, a group of terrorist villains appeared.
The league of villains were probably not even the first of their kind.
Ashido tapped her bed railings with her fingernails, closing her eyes.
Relaxation was a tough goal to achieve in this school.
She leapt off of her bed, immediately slipping into her rosy pink slippers.
She yawned, her arms raising high above her head.
She shuffled out, walking across the dorm rooms. She froze in front of Ochaco’s door. Her hand closed tightly as she raised it, allowing it to waver near the door for a minute.
Whenever she wanted to talk, she normally resorted to this; It wasn’t shameful.
When you are down in the dumps, you are encouraged to speak to loved ones or friends.
She wondered if Aoyama had anyone to rely on.
Suddenly, Ochaco’s door opened wide, the brunette stepping out of the doorframe, rubbing her eyes.
She yelped, staring directly into Ashido’s black and yellow eyes.
“Hi” She remarked awkwardly, stiffly poking Ashido’s shoulder.
“Oh” Ashido’s mouth took on an ‘o’ shape.
She glanced around before backing away.
“I was wondering if we could talk, but you seem busy”
Ochaco’s lips twitched.
“I’m not busy! I promise!” her arms raised up defensively, small specks of pink dusting her pale cheeks.
Ashido’s mouth conformed into a simple line and she nodded.
The two young girls sat on Ochaco’s bed, holding each other's hands.
“Are you alright?” Ochaco stared at Ashido with concern.
“I-do you think the previous classes have had incidents too? Are we just being representatives of power for entertainment?”
Ochaco stared at Ashido plainly.
“I don’t know”
“Do you think they sometimes lie about our conditions?”
“I s’pose they might”
“Do you think Deku and Aoyama will be okay?”
Ochaco pursed her lips. “Yes. I can confirm that Aoyama just had a panic attack. Nothing huge” Her head drifted on her left shoulder, the top of it pressing into the bottom of her head. Her eyelashes brushed calmly against her sleepy eyelids.
She seemed to think that things were okay.
And she was almost never wrong.
Ashido sighed, her hands slipping from Ochaco’s.
“Sorry. I was just-just had a lot on my mind”
Ochaco nodded, and with that Ashido stood up and left.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was strolling through the men’s dorms, glancing at the pink and orange clouds, announcing that the sun was about to rise. The bright orange lined the carpet and the walls and was covering me from head to toe. My bare feet were marching softly through the carpet, my white pajama shirt with a dark blue hem was swerving back and forth, revealing the short blue plaid pants I was wearing. The shirt was too big for me, it was my mother’s when she was sixteen, my age.
I was always so small for my age.
Everytime that I put this shirt on, I can smell her. She distinctly smells of birthday candles and cold apple juice and rainy mornings and chocolate frosting-frosting that had escaped the stand mixer’s control and had splattered all over us-
Frosting that we rolled around in, laughing hard and embracing one another.
No matter how many times I had washed the shirt, the smell stayed.
No matter what fragrance you would wear, the smell would never fade.
I grabbed the collar with both my hands and raised it to my nose. It was nice. It was calming.
I heard a door creak open, causing me to freeze in my tracks.
I heard brisk steps shuffling toward me.
I squinted, expecting Aizawa-sensei to show up to scold me.
Instead, a drowsy boy stood there.
He was the same blonde boy who had landed in the flower garden with me.
The boy I had put through so much pain.
I opened my mouth to speak, but only a squeak came out.
He stared at me, his indigo eyes seeming duller than before.
He had bags under his eyes, reaching the top of his rosy-pink sleep-flushed cheeks.
I grinned.
He looked so soft.
In the lighting, His face and body looked as though they were covered in peach fuzz.
I couldn’t help myself.
The monarch butterflies in my stomach fluttered about, landing and flying again.
My hands grabbed his, I needed to know.
They were so smooth. So coarse.
As the butterflies made their way up into my ribcage, my breath hitched.
I felt so safe.
The urge to hug the boy came out of nowhere.
We embraced each other, but my body began to speak for me. I gripped his hand and led him back to his room.
I was laughing bubbly, before tipping myself over with the clumsiness of an elephant. My body hit his bedclothes, my limbs relaxing.
Aoyama stood there, a bit dumbfounded for a minute before grinning wildly, as though I were in his eyes what he was in mine.
He toppled over onto the bed, wrapping his arms around my warm waist, my shirt lifting up a bit.
I tucked my head into his shoulder, indulging in the heat emitting from his neck.
I nuzzled into it, getting comfortable.
His feet were rubbing against each other, the socks on them sliding off.
My hands made their way to his torso, wrapping like a boa constrictor in an effort to kill its prey.
His hands lingered about, before reaching under my shirt and getting tangled up in the warm cloth.
I chuckled quietly, my head raising. I stuffed my face into his soft, fuzzy cheeks.
They smelled of vanilla ice cream.
Although at first I was timid, I planted a peck on his cheek.
They tasted so sweet.
He laughed, his hair brushing against my face as he kissed my forehead.
My face lit up, my eyes brightening up. I chuckled softly.
My head was nagging me to stop.
I couldn’t.
But isn’t this wrong?
Maybe so. But For just a moment, let’s not give a crap.
My throat itches horribly, but I brush it aside.
The soft boy was planting pecks all along my face, and eventually, he planted a kiss on my neck. It made me shiver.
My eyelids feel heavy, so I shut them.
My arms wrapped around the boy’s neck. My eyes fluttered open and met his. He looked so excited.
I wonder how stupid my face looked.
I leaned forward.
He did too.
My lips met his.
His met mine.
Our hands entangled.
And for a moment, I felt as though I had always known him.
And I felt the need to always know him.
A sour feeling spread up and at the tips around my brain, but I ignored it.
My lungs felt heavy.
But I paid it no mind.
He was so pretty,
So pretty in fact, that it was painful.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Apparently, at some point, I had fallen asleep in the protection of the boy’s arms.
Aoyama.
Aoyama’s arms.
How do I know his name?
But I brushed that aside as well.
I looked up and saw the blue sky through the boy’s curtains, which were waving about.
I rubbed my eyes.
That was my first kiss.
Your first kiss was from a dude?
Yep.
I clenched my teeth.
I felt so dirty.
But satisfied at the same time.
And joyful.
He was here. With me.
You're in love with a man.
Wrong.
I’m in love with Aoyama, idiot.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Iida was having a rather normal morning.
He was ensuring that all the students were up and ready for the day.
His hands rapped on Izuku Midoriya’s bedroom door.
Odd. Normally he’d at least be up at this time.
To most, this would count as an ungodly hour. But to Iida and Midoriya, it was the only hour that truly mattered.
He turned the doorknob and glanced into the room. He was gone. But even worse, his bed was a mess!
That wasn’t like Midoriya at all.
Iida was beginning to feel worried. He searched all the bedrooms, awakening many young men.
When he had reached Aoyama’s bedroom, he opened the door to see two boys in the bed, wrapped in each other's shirts and the covers. Iida felt dirty. He stepped out, a bright flush exploded onto his face.
He shut the door and ran.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Needless to say, Iida did wake us up. I attempted to untangle our clothes but my efforts were to no avail.
Aoyama took the liberty of unknotting himself from my shirt. I stood up and yawned. My head felt awful.
I leaped to my feet but suddenly suffered a massive head rush.
I grabbed onto Aoyama’s bed frame, steadying myself. Aoyama’s arms wrapped around my waist, clinging to me tightly. I looked up at his face, the fruity pebble-color combination leaving my eyesight. Aoyama grinned at me.
I looked down. The butterflies continued to swarm. I took an awkward step ahead. Aoyama released my waist, his feet crisscrossed, in a sort-of-charming way. I left the room and grabbed my training clothes. I headed for the restroom.
My gums bled again.
I stared at the spit-toothpaste as it swirled about in the toilet.
I decided to spit in the toilet from the first incident since it would leave less evidence.
I was flossing, when I managed to pick an oddly large object from in between my molars. I stood back and squinted at it. It was yellow.
It resembled a petal. I flushed it down.
Iida pounded on my door.
“MIDORIYA! YOU’VE FLUSHED THE TOILET TWICE. GET OUT! YOU’RE HOLDING UP THE LINE AND THEN WE’LL ALL BE LATE”
I jumped at his loud voice, but listened to him nevertheless. I left the room, my shoes clicking on the floor as I made my way to the classroom. I nearly tripped over Aizawa-sensei, who was buried in his sleeping bag, as usual. I stepped over him.
He was grinning up at me.
That was never good.
“I heard that you were in Yuga Aoyama’s bedroom last night?”
I blushed.
“We-we didn’t do anything like-really bad”
He squinted.
“Still. Students are restricted from taking residence in each other’s rooms without letting us know. We might think that you’re lost, or kidnapped”. He said sternly.
“Also, even though there are no cameras permitted in your rooms, we can still hear you through the cameras in the halls”
He squinted.
I was a suffering man.
Aizawa then looked away from me and welcomed the other students.
I found my seat and plopped into it. I glanced around the classroom, in search of anything interesting.
It had occurred to me that I had never noticed Aoyama in this classroom.
Odd.
As Aizawa-sensei’s words flew in and out of my ears like rolling waves, my pencil flew across the paper, taking as many notes as I could.
But my mind was elsewhere.
My mind was glued to the blonde-haired boy in all of his glory.
I dared to pause my notes to look for him.
He was sitting, casually, his hand tipped slightly under his chin.
He was grinning broadly.
I savored that moment, that smile, for as long as I could, lest it leave as fast as it had appeared.
I soaked in what I could of his gorgeous features.
His other hand was tapping his desk impatiently.
The butterflies continued to smarm.
The feelings crept up gradually, hoping to smite their prey with a mighty blow.
My pencil flew across the paper.
I was no artist in my eyes, but the picture I was drawing was beautiful in its own way. The lore behind it was what had drawn me to look back on it for years.
The image was of a large golden butterfly, black stripes and patterns stretching across its wings and body.
My hands were content.
My mind was not.
How do people tolerate sitting in the same room as an angel?
-------------------------------------------------------
If I had the choice to be sitting behind Deku, I would change my seat. No hay problema.
But, unfortunately, my view of Deku was across the room and a bit behind me. If I turned around to look at him, I might be accused of cheating, or not paying attention. But all I wanted to pay attention to was the short, green-haired boy.
Last night, I felt like I had been shaken awake.
Like I had been pinned down and cold water was dunked onto my face,
Deku was amazing to me.
I cared for him in a way that was now possible for him to requite.
I wanted to look at him.
It might sound creepy, but he was just so-so nice to look at.
My throat itched.
I had a cough for the last few days, but Aizawa told me just to drink water and rest.
It would be easier if it just-didn’t keep scaring me so much.
Every day.
Little sprouts bloom from every open hole in my face and body. They grow out of my pores, mouth, ears, nose, fingernails, sometimes even my eyes.
I’ve lived like this for almost a year now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Deku has something to do with it.
It started when I had first laid eyes on him.
The first few days were all blood and gore.
Then it evolved into all that and the green-tinted blooms.
I never cared to research it.
Must have never crossed my mind.
After the bell rang, I pulled out my phone. I searched, “Why is my body dispersing flowers at a rapid rate?”
Much to my surprise, there actually were some articles on it-something about a disease called, “hanahaki”.
I clicked on the first one That I saw.
“Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love. The side effects include coughing, nausea, regurgitating\coughing up blood, and in most cases, a heavy dispersion of a flower related to their lover. The infection can be surgically removed, but the feelings often leave with the flowers-”
I went back as soon as I had seen it.
This was very similar to what I had, but I should keep looking.
“Hanahaki disease is a slow, painful disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with the victim coughing up a few petals, but often grows in intensity and pain. If not treated, it can be fatal.”
I blinked.
I didn’t want to forget Deku.
If the disease is caused by unrequited love, what happens if we do love each other after the fact?
It seemed so obvious. If we could just, magically love each other, things'll be peachy?
I did not believe it. I could not.
But I needed to deal with it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do I love Yuga Aoyama?
I don’t know.
Iida seemed frustrated today.
I approached him, my shoes louder than I’d like them to be.
He turned around swiftly, his hands grasping my shirt collar.
I squeaked.
He turned to face me.
“Deku” His glasses were glazed over with the reflection of the lights.
“Are you gay?”
I hesitated.
I was, but I wasn’t.
“I-” I stammered. “No. Yes? I don’t know. Is it possible to like both?...”
Iida tensed.
“No,” he said coldly.
He turned away from me, and thrust me far from his body, as if with confusion.
“Stop being a fool. You can’t like both, that’s-atrocious”
I smiled. “I guess- I don’t know then. I’ll figure it out”.
What.
I was no artist in my eyes, but the picture I was drawing was beautiful in its own way. The lore behind it was what had drawn me to look back on it for years.
The image was of a large golden butterfly, black stripes and patterns stretching across its wings and body.
My hands were content.
My mind was not.
How do people tolerate sitting in the same room as an angel?
-------------------------------------------------------
If I had the choice to be sitting behind Deku, I would change my seat. No hay problema.
But, unfortunately, my view of Deku was across the room and a bit behind me. If I turned around to look at him, I might be accused of cheating, or not paying attention. But all I wanted to pay attention to was the short, green-haired boy.
Last night, I felt like I had been shaken awake.
Like I had been pinned down and cold water was dunked onto my face,
Deku was amazing to me.
I cared for him in a way that was now possible for him to requite.
I wanted to look at him.
It might sound creepy, but he was just so-so nice to look at.
My throat itched.
I had a cough for the last few days, but Aizawa told me just to drink water and rest.
It would be easier if it just-didn’t keep scaring me so much.
Every day.
Little sprouts bloom from every open hole in my face and body. They grow out of my pores, mouth, ears, nose, fingernails, sometimes even my eyes.
I’ve lived like this for almost a year now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Deku has something to do with it.
It started when I had first laid eyes on him.
The first few days were all blood and gore.
Then it evolved into all that and the green-tinted blooms.
I never cared to research it.
Must have never crossed my mind.
After the bell rang, I pulled out my phone. I searched, “Why is my body dispersing flowers at a rapid rate?”
Much to my surprise, there actually were some articles on it-something about a disease called, “hanahaki”.
I clicked on the first one That I saw.
“Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love. The side effects include coughing, nausea, regurgitating\coughing up blood, and in most cases, a heavy dispersion of a flower related to their lover. The infection can be surgically removed, but the feelings often leave with the flowers-”
I went back as soon as I had seen it.
This was very similar to what I had, but I should keep looking.
“Hanahaki disease is a slow, painful disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with the victim coughing up a few petals, but often grows in intensity and pain. If not treated, it can be fatal.”
I blinked.
I didn’t want to forget Deku.
If the disease is caused by unrequited love, what happens if we do love each other after the fact?
It seemed so obvious. If we could just, magically love each other, things'll be peachy?
I did not believe it. I could not.
But I needed to deal with it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do I love Yuga Aoyama?
I don’t know.
Iida seemed frustrated today.
I approached him, my shoes louder than I’d like them to be.
He turned around swiftly, his hands grasping my shirt collar.
I squeaked.
He turned to face me.
“Deku” His glasses were glazed over with the reflection of the lights.
“Are you gay?”
I hesitated.
I was, but I wasn’t.
“I-” I stammered. “No. Yes? I don’t know. Is it possible to like both?...”
Iida tensed.
“No,” he said coldly.
He turned away from me, and thrust me far from his body, as if with confusion.
“Stop being a fool. You can’t like both, that’s-atrocious”
I smiled. “I guess- I don’t know then. I’ll figure it out”.
What.
I was no artist in my eyes, but the picture I was drawing was beautiful in its own way. The lore behind it was what had drawn me to look back on it for years.
The image was of a large golden butterfly, black stripes and patterns stretching across its wings and body.
My hands were content.
My mind was not.
How do people tolerate sitting in the same room as an angel?
-------------------------------------------------------
If I had the choice to be sitting behind Deku, I would change my seat. No hay problema.
But, unfortunately, my view of Deku was across the room and a bit behind me. If I turned around to look at him, I might be accused of cheating, or not paying attention. But all I wanted to pay attention to was the short, green-haired boy.
Last night, I felt like I had been shaken awake.
Like I had been pinned down and cold water was dunked onto my face,
Deku was amazing to me.
I cared for him in a way that was now possible for him to requite.
I wanted to look at him.
It might sound creepy, but he was just so-so nice to look at.
My throat itched.
I had a cough for the last few days, but Aizawa told me just to drink water and rest.
It would be easier if it just-didn’t keep scaring me so much.
Every day.
Little sprouts bloom from every open hole in my face and body. They grow out of my pores, mouth, ears, nose, fingernails, sometimes even my eyes.
I’ve lived like this for almost a year now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Deku has something to do with it.
It started when I had first laid eyes on him.
The first few days were all blood and gore.
Then it evolved into all that and the green-tinted blooms.
I never cared to research it.
Must have never crossed my mind.
After the bell rang, I pulled out my phone. I searched, “Why is my body dispersing flowers at a rapid rate?”
Much to my surprise, there actually were some articles on it-something about a disease called, “hanahaki”.
I clicked on the first one That I saw.
“Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love. The side effects include coughing, nausea, regurgitating\coughing up blood, and in most cases, a heavy dispersion of a flower related to their lover. The infection can be surgically removed, but the feelings often leave with the flowers-”
I went back as soon as I had seen it.
This was very similar to what I had, but I should keep looking.
“Hanahaki disease is a slow, painful disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with the victim coughing up a few petals, but often grows in intensity and pain. If not treated, it can be fatal.”
I blinked.
I didn’t want to forget Deku.
If the disease is caused by unrequited love, what happens if we do love each other after the fact?
It seemed so obvious. If we could just, magically love each other, things'll be peachy?
I did not believe it. I could not.
But I needed to deal with it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do I love Yuga Aoyama?
I don’t know.
Iida seemed frustrated today.
I approached him, my shoes louder than I’d like them to be.
He turned around swiftly, his hands grasping my shirt collar.
I squeaked.
He turned to face me.
“Deku” His glasses were glazed over with the reflection of the lights.
“Are you gay?”
I hesitated.
I was, but I wasn’t.
“I-” I stammered. “No. Yes? I don’t know. Is it possible to like both?...”
Iida tensed.
“No,” he said coldly.
He turned away from me, and thrust me far from his body, as if with confusion.
“Stop being a fool. You can’t like both, that’s-atrocious”
I smiled. “I guess- I don’t know then. I’ll figure it out”.
What.
What am I?
---------------------------------------------------------
It can be said that I’ve been asked all sorts of questions. But when young Midoriya approached me, I had not been surprised.
I’d just never been asked by a fledgling gay what our terms meant.
“Aizawa-sensei-with all due respect-”
“Can I like-Like both genders?”
“Gender?” I stared at him.
He lifted his eyebrow.
“Can’t tell you about something that doesn’t exist-” I mumbled under my breath.
I knew what he meant though, but failed to see why people had to apply gender to everything.
“I know what you mean. And yes, you can.” I yawned, looking the other direction in a very uninterested way.
“You can?! Iida said-Iida said that you can’t!”
“So you're basing your opinions on what someone else tells you? Sounds particularly weak of you, Izuku Midoriya”
“I once cared about other people,” Aizawa chuckled. “Then they said I was someone I wasn’t”
My mouth twisted its corners upward, forming my awkward smile.
“Imagine having a gender,” I said between clenched teeth.
Midoriya cocked his head to one side.
“But- your a boy?”
I snorted. “Picture this Midoriya. You wake up in a female’s body. It sucks, right? Cause you know that internally, you simply can’t be a girl, right?”
Midoriya nods. “I guess that makes sense”
I nodded. “Except in my case, I couldn’t conform, so I gave up”
He looked so confused.
“I’m obviously not a dude, right?”
He blinked.
“I never thought of it that way”
I snorted.
“It confuses everyone.I have no gender, But I’d still say that I am gay. You can be anything you want to, as long as you set your mind to it. You like girls, you like girls. You like boys, fck it, you like boys. You hate everyone, hll, same.You like everybody, can’t relate, but go for it”
He looked so inspired.
“So i’m not weird?!” He yelled it.
I shuddered. I had remembered a time where I had felt the same.
I remembered a time where I’d wake up every morning and everything was still there.
And then I’d be found on the ground, screaming and crying. I’d pound at the floor, bruising my hands and breaking my fingers.
I’d tear myself up, because it almost felt as though I wasn’t a real person.
I laid my hand on Midoriya’s head.
“You are not weird, Izuku Midoriya. You just sort of, are”
He looked up at me in a weird way.
I lifted my hand and shooed him off.
He skipped off, full of a sort of, grandiose energy that could not be described.
I sighed. I could not, for the life of me, understand him.
But I could help him fill the blanks, so everyone else could read him better.
----------------------------------------------------------
I was a bit confused.
Why was being attracted to people so confusing?
And apparently, gender was just as confusing, if not near impossible to interpret.
I had paused, noticing that Aoyama was walking by.
I stared at him, but he must have not seen me. He was chatting with Mina.
I knew he couldn’t be wrapped around my finger 24\7,or even at all.
The guilt crept back to its perch. I pounded my chest, wheezing out a petal.
All well, I guess.
My gut ached.
As my eyes blurred, I questioned why I still stayed. Why I still went through all this trouble just to end up hurting those around me.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
“Due to the intense events of this school year, we will be holding a dance, it is for all classes”
Aizawa’s voice was bored-and perhaps a bit nervous.
But me, I was very nervous.
maybe, possibly, even on the brink of a breakdown.
Because as soon as the words came from Aizawa-sensei’s mouth I knew.
I knew that unlike many years before this, there was actually a chance I would be asked out to said party.
And I don’t know how I would handle that.
And I don’t know if I should.
Without internally discussing the conflict any longer, I continued on with my day.
After sparring(and\or Bakugo serving me swift kicks in the pants for over an hour)I made my way through the halls, staring at my notebook.
Another empty page.
I flipped it. Two empty pages.
I never went a day without making notes.
And yet, I couldn’t write a word. Everything was muddled and foggy, and my brain felt as though it were running on some engine it had borrowed.
The fuel was anonymous, seeing as I had not eaten nor slept much at all.
I had wondered what kept people like me going.
Or if people like me were real at all.
Aizawa-sensei had already explained my attraction mishap, but that wasn’t all there was for me.
I had found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my work recently, and the walls I had built around my mentality to further protect it from debbie-downers who would doubt me were crumbling. I think people can say whatever they want to me now, and maybe i’ll even take it seriously.Take it into consideration, much like a survey at the end of a hotel stay.
My brain was teeming with an overwhelming feeling of doubt and rage.
Rage at Katsuki, rage at All Might, rage at my mom, rage for villains, rage for even him,the boy who had done nothing but lift the pain off my chest.
Most of the pain, at least.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
‘I wanna be alone, alone with you, does that make sense?
I wanna steal your soul, and hide you in my treasure chest.
I don’t know what to do, to do with your kiss on my neck.
I don’t know what feels true, but this feels right so stay a sec.
Yeah, you feel right so stay a sec-’
The vinyl scratched as it was stopped suddenly.
My green bangs fluttered across my forehead as I turned onto my side under my blanket.
I felt so undeniably petty, zoning out while relating to sappy love songs.
I rubbed my fingers around the hem of the coarse quilt coating my mattress.
Then gripped them tight enough to strangle a quail.
I coughed.
I’d say that me being a dramatic emo is an understatement, but at this moment it felt like it was the only accurate description.
I sat up slowly, my index finger curling a strand of my hair.
My blanket was thrust aside in order to free my legs.
My feet then descended to the ground. They lifted my upper body, and my toes balanced it all out.
My head rolled about on my shoulders, feeling overweight.
My eyelids felt like several tons were weighing them down, pulling them over my eyes like drapes.
I leaned against the wall, my skin screaming as it came in contact with a poster.
My fingers tapped rhythmically on the wall, only creating familiar sounds of candy unwrapping.
I made my way to the restroom like this, as though the world had been tipped over and was hanging off balance.
My hands eventually wrapped around the cold doorknob and thrusted it open.
I tip-toed to the shower and opened the curtains.
I undressed slowly, my shirt collar getting caught on my large head and ears.
Afterward, I lifted my right leg into the tub, followed by the other one.
I had once been told that bathing in cold water could help you lose calories, and god knows how much weight I carry on these legs every day.
I turned the knob to the farthest end of the blue stripe, shuddering as freezing water poured around me like the bottom of a turned over hourglass. My knees met the bottom of the tub with a small tapping noise.
I rubbed my knees and raised them to my chest.
My chin dropped onto my kneecaps.
As the loud water barricaded my ears from all the noises of the outside, my brain drifted into deep thought.
I closed my eyes.
All that I could see was the dead grass ahead of me. It looked as though I was in a valley or something of the sort. I relaxed my legs and let them slide to the grass.
My eyelids were no longer heavy, and floated over my pupils calmly, like the fluttering of a butterflies’ wings.
My lungs constricted. My ears went numb. My lips were cold and stiff.
My arms were heavy. My legs felt as though they were chained to the floor.
---------------------------------------
Normally, the antics of another barely fazed Aizawa, but in the case of a child way too late for his class, they had to intervene in order to carry on with the day. After it had become clear that everyone had already tried knocking on the door, Aizawa resorted to much more drastic measures. They grabbed the doorknob and tore it off its resting place. Afterward, they pushed the door lightly, and to no one’s surprise it swung open.
In the bedroom(besides the All might shrines in every corner, everywhere) Posters were torn down, and clothes were strewn across the floor. There were signs of a struggle. Aizawa stepped into the bedroom and sighed. They did not have the time for this. They banged on the bathroom door. “Izuku Midoriya! You are about to be marked tardy!”
At that moment, the door swung open to reveal a short pale boy wearing a medium robe around his body.
His eyes were sunken in and his lips were chapped. His ears were red and his cheeks rosy. “A-apologies, Aizawa-sensei!” He stuttered, bowing to his teacher.He then slammed the door. Ten minutes later, he opened the door again, but this time he was fully dressed.
He was gathering his hair in his hands nervously. He was trembling and his previous appearance had not been altered much. He quickly pulled his hair into a small ponytail and rushed past Aizawa, who looked off with a puzzled expression.
----------------------------------------------------------
Izuku Midoriya.
Looks amazing in a ponytail.
I mean, of course!why not?...he looks amazing overall…
but today is slightly different-his style looks rushed, smeared, like the work of a misused makeup brush, or a feisty baby refusing his soft food. It is making me uneasy. Even so, it makes my heart flutter all the same. This boy makes it impossible to hide inside a closet.
His wild hair sways side-to-side as he writes and shakes his head. I try to hide my urges, but I cannot.My face is red, my hair is curly. I mustn't ruin my own style admiring his own wild composure.So as the bell tolls, I grab his arm. We are skipping a class today.
----------------------------------------------------------
Two boys scurry down the halls quietly, holding each other close and trying not to laugh. They both said they were feeling uneasy to get out of sparring, which was believable given their quirks.
It was so easy.
But so wrong. So bad. So-
Irresistible.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The boys stumbled over one another’s feet; making their way somewhere; or, maybe nowhere at all. Maybe beyond here, beyond the farthest reaches of our imagination. Maybe they were floating amongst the noir sky, among the stars, heading toward their burning rendezvous; maybe they were drifting down a cool creek,in a moisture-ridden forest; or it could be that they were simply on the carpet floor of a dining room, holding eachothers hands and whispering lullabies to themselves; maybe they were touching each others faces, wondering if it was all real. Maybe one was hiding in the other’s warm neck, inhaling the scent of versace perfume and the strong scent of strawberry shampoo in their golden locks; maybe their hands were intertwined-perhaps their lips even met, colliding with one another-a strong contrast between the one’s silky smooth ones against the other’s chapped, dry red-tinted lips, teeming with the obvious signs of neglect;
Maybe.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Izuku Midoriya was a lot of things.
Being in love was one of them.
And even so, his life carried on around him-but not his mind-his mind was paused in one place-paused in Yuga Aoyama’s sweet embrace.
Oh, how he wished he wasn’t so in love.
“Midoriya”
His eyes went up faster than the reproduction of bunnies.
“Yes?” Deku said, absent-mindedly.
Iida stood over him, a worried expression on his face.
“Are you sick? Your face is-very red” he asked.
Deku shivered and coughed.
Petals were still there, somehow.
“I’m sick-reaaaal sick” Deku chuckled.
Iida felt his forehead. “Are you?”
“Iida- I think I have a bad case of that-boy-is-fine-as-h*ll-itis”
Iida backed off.
“Whom is?”
“Oh-someone. A very special someone”
His eyes were glazed over, and he seemed to be in another world.
“What-” Iida’s face was one of pure confusion.
“IS that WhY-”
“Deku-Are you dating Yuga?” Iida’s brotherly instincts kicked in.
Midoriya shuddered. He never considered the thought of them dating.
“How would I know? Look...I’m not very sure myself. I’m confused, but I'm kind of happy I don’t understand it, y’know?”
Iida seemed satisfied with the answer, mumbling incoherent words.
“I won’t judge, you know this right?” Iida said quietly.
“Iida”
“I mean, not my cup of tea, but you get it”
“Iida...I think you were wrong”
“About?” He responds, absent-mindedly. “About me only being able to like one gender. I know it makes no sense, but I like both, I think. I think I may be Bisexual…”
Iida stiffened. “...But-”
“Look-I don’t know what’s wrong with me” Deku’s eyes were shining a a tear fell down. “I make no sense. I’m a mess-I’m weak-I’m-”
“Where’d this come fro-”
“I’m worthless-I-”Deku suddenly inhaled very sharply, making a loud noise.
“I’m confused!I’m wrong!I-”
“Stop it,” Iida yelled. Deku shut up.
“I don’t know why you are acting like this. It is ridiculous” He sighed. “You can’t change someone’s mind by guilt-tripping them”
Deku sniffed. “I know” he whimpered.
“Then why’d you do it?"
(I'll edit this as i go)
“Midoriya”
I blinked. How did he know my name?
“I-I think-I think you are the epitome of all the world's beauty at its finest. You are the shining light of this planet’s core ”
I nodded hesitantly.
“I don’t agree. But thank you”.
“Why not?”
“Why are we getting personal? We just met”
He froze.
Then, he laughed.
My eyes drank up his happy expression, feasting like a starving, rabid wolf on every single god forbidden detail, savoring every moment of his joyful expression. Of his lively face.
“Deku! We’re friends”
I trembled.
“I-”
I leaned closer to his direct earshot.
“I don’t remember you” I mumbled.
My cowardice is unparalleled.
He seemed shocked.
“Oh”
“I have to go”
He stood up and walked away, a sorrowful air about him.
As he trotted away, my throat released a groan of bitter despair.
My tongue had dried up.
My skin was now cold.
My mind was empty.
Things had unpaused.
But I couldn't see it, nor feel the brunt of its actions.
The world buzzed around me, but I wasn’t there.
I was 10,000 light years away, in the dark navy-blue sea of space. Even the roaring balls of fire known to these people as stars couldn’t touch me. I drifted through space, my mind slowly evaporating into the heavens.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aoyama couldn’t breathe. His sobs choked out in small portions, his throat tightened and his lungs constricted.
It was as though his intestines had disconnected and were now taking advantage of his organs, squeezing them like beans are in order to create soft brown paste.
It felt as though a clammy, heavy chain was wrapped about inside of him.
He could feel the fat tears streaking from his eyelids.
But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to feel.
He gripped his forehead,pinching the skin, trying to ground himself.
His face was unnaturally red.
His skull was blasting with searing pain, as though his brain was being branded on the very forefront.
His mouth and tongue felt raw,but also felt like rigid, hot gold flakes were stuck onto the taste buds, stabbing the upper part of his mouth and entangling the uvula. His teeth felt like they were each individually lined with an apple skin, one that was digging painfully into his pale gums.
As though a slain beast’s blood was seeping from his sinuses into his throat, causing it to feel as uncomfortable as possible, and acting as the-cherry-on-top for the poor boy’s suffering. His eyes were stinging, lining the cornea’s with a hot pink color.
His breath came in gasps.
This was the equivalent of being caught in a cold dark chamber, a chain being brought down onto your crumpled heart, over and over again, splitting it open.
Why would you inflict such pain on me?
Why would you hurt me like this?
All you had to do was listen.
Nobody knows who you even are.
How would that make you feel?
Why are you such a burden?
Why are you so ignorant?
Why are you trying so hard?
The thoughts buzzed throughout his skull, his heart beating as fast as a race horse anticipating another win.
Suddenly, two hands pounded into his chest.
Two more fingers popped a freezing ice cube into his mouth, where it immediately stuck onto his tongue.
He felt his body be raised, two hands grasping his sweaty red ones.
“Wake up”
The words were spoken in a strict tone, but Aoyama didn’t want to listen. His brain was a lost connection, the fizzing bubbling over the top like a newly poured carbonated drink.
The hands once more pressed into his chest.
It helped his lungs release their tightness, giving him some relief.
But it was still painful.
The ice cube had shocked him some, but the brain was still heaving weight like an overweight hippopotamus.
Suddenly, a hand brushed over Aoyama’s hair softly.
Aoyama opened his eyes, looking up to several blurred figures surrounding him.
He was in someone’s arms, being held as though he were a fragile ornament.
His vision had not yet cleared, despite his eyes being wide opened.Flashes were searing his brain, blow after blow gradually growing more painful. His heart was beating hard, His head pounding rhythmically to the heart’s pumping.
He was lifted up, and then the figure holding him moved fast. Despite the radio static clogging Aoyama’s ears, He could hear distant taps of feet slapping the ground.
“It’s my fault! I did it! It’s my fault!” someone screeched loudly, between sobs.
Aoyama muttered something inaudible, his voice crackling like wood dissipating in a fireplace.
A warm presence engulfed him, coating him like a weighted blanket.
He gradually slipped out of consciousness.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In Mina Ashido’s eyes, things were okay.
Well, somewhat normal at least.
In a two day span, two students were sent to the nurse.
Both were emergencies.
Ashido had considered the possibility of a disease spreading about, but ruled against it after reports of Aoyama’s hospitalization came back as an unfortunate aftermath to a bad panic attack.
Midoriya’s hospitalization was apparently due to a lung infection, or at least that’s what the school’s board of health said, to appease the worried parents.
The news had caught wind of the incidents, as though students from class-A were indestructible, god-like men and women and otherwise perfectly healthy beings.
As though an injured UA student was a shocking reality.
Ashido knew this was wrong.
Dark things had taken place within the UA walls this year, some of the most shocking, jaw-dropping incidents in UA history.
Ashido often wondered if this was true, or if they were able to cover up every other incident, and the minute they got comfortable, a group of terrorist villains appeared.
The league of villains were probably not even the first of their kind.
Ashido tapped her bed railings with her fingernails, closing her eyes.
Relaxation was a tough goal to achieve in this school.
She leapt off of her bed, immediately slipping into her rosy pink slippers.
She yawned, her arms raising high above her head.
She shuffled out, walking across the dorm rooms. She froze in front of Ochaco’s door. Her hand closed tightly as she raised it, allowing it to waver near the door for a minute.
Whenever she wanted to talk, she normally resorted to this; It wasn’t shameful.
When you are down in the dumps, you are encouraged to speak to loved ones or friends.
She wondered if Aoyama had anyone to rely on.
Suddenly, Ochaco’s door opened wide, the brunette stepping out of the doorframe, rubbing her eyes.
She yelped, staring directly into Ashido’s black and yellow eyes.
“Hi” She remarked awkwardly, stiffly poking Ashido’s shoulder.
“Oh” Ashido’s mouth took on an ‘o’ shape.
She glanced around before backing away.
“I was wondering if we could talk, but you seem busy”
Ochaco’s lips twitched.
“I’m not busy! I promise!” her arms raised up defensively, small specks of pink dusting her pale cheeks.
Ashido’s mouth conformed into a simple line and she nodded.
The two young girls sat on Ochaco’s bed, holding each other's hands.
“Are you alright?” Ochaco stared at Ashido with concern.
“I-do you think the previous classes have had incidents too? Are we just being representatives of power for entertainment?”
Ochaco stared at Ashido plainly.
“I don’t know”
“Do you think they sometimes lie about our conditions?”
“I s’pose they might”
“Do you think Deku and Aoyama will be okay?”
Ochaco pursed her lips. “Yes. I can confirm that Aoyama just had a panic attack. Nothing huge” Her head drifted on her left shoulder, the top of it pressing into the bottom of her head. Her eyelashes brushed calmly against her sleepy eyelids.
She seemed to think that things were okay.
And she was almost never wrong.
Ashido sighed, her hands slipping from Ochaco’s.
“Sorry. I was just-just had a lot on my mind”
Ochaco nodded, and with that Ashido stood up and left.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was strolling through the men’s dorms, glancing at the pink and orange clouds, announcing that the sun was about to rise. The bright orange lined the carpet and the walls and was covering me from head to toe. My bare feet were marching softly through the carpet, my white pajama shirt with a dark blue hem was swerving back and forth, revealing the short blue plaid pants I was wearing. The shirt was too big for me, it was my mother’s when she was sixteen, my age.
I was always so small for my age.
Everytime that I put this shirt on, I can smell her. She distinctly smells of birthday candles and cold apple juice and rainy mornings and chocolate frosting-frosting that had escaped the stand mixer’s control and had splattered all over us-
Frosting that we rolled around in, laughing hard and embracing one another.
No matter how many times I had washed the shirt, the smell stayed.
No matter what fragrance you would wear, the smell would never fade.
I grabbed the collar with both my hands and raised it to my nose. It was nice. It was calming.
I heard a door creak open, causing me to freeze in my tracks.
I heard brisk steps shuffling toward me.
I squinted, expecting Aizawa-sensei to show up to scold me.
Instead, a drowsy boy stood there.
He was the same blonde boy who had landed in the flower garden with me.
The boy I had put through so much pain.
I opened my mouth to speak, but only a squeak came out.
He stared at me, his indigo eyes seeming duller than before.
He had bags under his eyes, reaching the top of his rosy-pink sleep-flushed cheeks.
I grinned.
He looked so soft.
In the lighting, His face and body looked as though they were covered in peach fuzz.
I couldn’t help myself.
The monarch butterflies in my stomach fluttered about, landing and flying again.
My hands grabbed his, I needed to know.
They were so smooth. So coarse.
As the butterflies made their way up into my ribcage, my breath hitched.
I felt so safe.
The urge to hug the boy came out of nowhere.
We embraced each other, but my body began to speak for me. I gripped his hand and led him back to his room.
I was laughing bubbly, before tipping myself over with the clumsiness of an elephant. My body hit his bedclothes, my limbs relaxing.
Aoyama stood there, a bit dumbfounded for a minute before grinning wildly, as though I were in his eyes what he was in mine.
He toppled over onto the bed, wrapping his arms around my warm waist, my shirt lifting up a bit.
I tucked my head into his shoulder, indulging in the heat emitting from his neck.
I nuzzled into it, getting comfortable.
His feet were rubbing against each other, the socks on them sliding off.
My hands made their way to his torso, wrapping like a boa constrictor in an effort to kill its prey.
His hands lingered about, before reaching under my shirt and getting tangled up in the warm cloth.
I chuckled quietly, my head raising. I stuffed my face into his soft, fuzzy cheeks.
They smelled of vanilla ice cream.
Although at first I was timid, I planted a peck on his cheek.
They tasted so sweet.
He laughed, his hair brushing against my face as he kissed my forehead.
My face lit up, my eyes brightening up. I chuckled softly.
My head was nagging me to stop.
I couldn’t.
But isn’t this wrong?
Maybe so. But For just a moment, let’s not give a crap.
My throat itches horribly, but I brush it aside.
The soft boy was planting pecks all along my face, and eventually, he planted a kiss on my neck. It made me shiver.
My eyelids feel heavy, so I shut them.
My arms wrapped around the boy’s neck. My eyes fluttered open and met his. He looked so excited.
I wonder how stupid my face looked.
I leaned forward.
He did too.
My lips met his.
His met mine.
Our hands entangled.
And for a moment, I felt as though I had always known him.
And I felt the need to always know him.
A sour feeling spread up and at the tips around my brain, but I ignored it.
My lungs felt heavy.
But I paid it no mind.
He was so pretty,
So pretty in fact, that it was painful.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Apparently, at some point, I had fallen asleep in the protection of the boy’s arms.
Aoyama.
Aoyama’s arms.
How do I know his name?
But I brushed that aside as well.
I looked up and saw the blue sky through the boy’s curtains, which were waving about.
I rubbed my eyes.
That was my first kiss.
Your first kiss was from a dude?
Yep.
I clenched my teeth.
I felt so dirty.
But satisfied at the same time.
And joyful.
He was here. With me.
You're in love with a man.
Wrong.
I’m in love with Aoyama, idiot.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Iida was having a rather normal morning.
He was ensuring that all the students were up and ready for the day.
His hands rapped on Izuku Midoriya’s bedroom door.
Odd. Normally he’d at least be up at this time.
To most, this would count as an ungodly hour. But to Iida and Midoriya, it was the only hour that truly mattered.
He turned the doorknob and glanced into the room. He was gone. But even worse, his bed was a mess!
That wasn’t like Midoriya at all.
Iida was beginning to feel worried. He searched all the bedrooms, awakening many young men.
When he had reached Aoyama’s bedroom, he opened the door to see two boys in the bed, wrapped in each other's shirts and the covers. Iida felt dirty. He stepped out, a bright flush exploded onto his face.
He shut the door and ran.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Needless to say, Iida did wake us up. I attempted to untangle our clothes but my efforts were to no avail.
Aoyama took the liberty of unknotting himself from my shirt. I stood up and yawned. My head felt awful.
I leaped to my feet but suddenly suffered a massive head rush.
I grabbed onto Aoyama’s bed frame, steadying myself. Aoyama’s arms wrapped around my waist, clinging to me tightly. I looked up at his face, the fruity pebble-color combination leaving my eyesight. Aoyama grinned at me.
I looked down. The butterflies continued to swarm. I took an awkward step ahead. Aoyama released my waist, his feet crisscrossed, in a sort-of-charming way. I left the room and grabbed my training clothes. I headed for the restroom.
My gums bled again.
I stared at the spit-toothpaste as it swirled about in the toilet.
I decided to spit in the toilet from the first incident since it would leave less evidence.
I was flossing, when I managed to pick an oddly large object from in between my molars. I stood back and squinted at it. It was yellow.
It resembled a petal. I flushed it down.
Iida pounded on my door.
“MIDORIYA! YOU’VE FLUSHED THE TOILET TWICE. GET OUT! YOU’RE HOLDING UP THE LINE AND THEN WE’LL ALL BE LATE”
I jumped at his loud voice, but listened to him nevertheless. I left the room, my shoes clicking on the floor as I made my way to the classroom. I nearly tripped over Aizawa-sensei, who was buried in his sleeping bag, as usual. I stepped over him.
He was grinning up at me.
That was never good.
“I heard that you were in Yuga Aoyama’s bedroom last night?”
I blushed.
“We-we didn’t do anything like-really bad”
He squinted.
“Still. Students are restricted from taking residence in each other’s rooms without letting us know. We might think that you’re lost, or kidnapped”. He said sternly.
“Also, even though there are no cameras permitted in your rooms, we can still hear you through the cameras in the halls”
He squinted.
I was a suffering man.
Aizawa then looked away from me and welcomed the other students.
I found my seat and plopped into it. I glanced around the classroom, in search of anything interesting.
It had occurred to me that I had never noticed Aoyama in this classroom.
Odd.
As Aizawa-sensei’s words flew in and out of my ears like rolling waves, my pencil flew across the paper, taking as many notes as I could.
But my mind was elsewhere.
My mind was glued to the blonde-haired boy in all of his glory.
I dared to pause my notes to look for him.
He was sitting, casually, his hand tipped slightly under his chin.
He was grinning broadly.
I savored that moment, that smile, for as long as I could, lest it leave as fast as it had appeared.
I soaked in what I could of his gorgeous features.
His other hand was tapping his desk impatiently.
The butterflies continued to smarm.
The feelings crept up gradually, hoping to smite their prey with a mighty blow.
My pencil flew across the paper.
I was no artist in my eyes, but the picture I was drawing was beautiful in its own way. The lore behind it was what had drawn me to look back on it for years.
The image was of a large golden butterfly, black stripes and patterns stretching across its wings and body.
My hands were content.
My mind was not.
How do people tolerate sitting in the same room as an angel?
-------------------------------------------------------
If I had the choice to be sitting behind Deku, I would change my seat. No hay problema.
But, unfortunately, my view of Deku was across the room and a bit behind me. If I turned around to look at him, I might be accused of cheating, or not paying attention. But all I wanted to pay attention to was the short, green-haired boy.
Last night, I felt like I had been shaken awake.
Like I had been pinned down and cold water was dunked onto my face,
Deku was amazing to me.
I cared for him in a way that was now possible for him to requite.
I wanted to look at him.
It might sound creepy, but he was just so-so nice to look at.
My throat itched.
I had a cough for the last few days, but Aizawa told me just to drink water and rest.
It would be easier if it just-didn’t keep scaring me so much.
Every day.
Little sprouts bloom from every open hole in my face and body. They grow out of my pores, mouth, ears, nose, fingernails, sometimes even my eyes.
I’ve lived like this for almost a year now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Deku has something to do with it.
It started when I had first laid eyes on him.
The first few days were all blood and gore.
Then it evolved into all that and the green-tinted blooms.
I never cared to research it.
Must have never crossed my mind.
After the bell rang, I pulled out my phone. I searched, “Why is my body dispersing flowers at a rapid rate?”
Much to my surprise, there actually were some articles on it-something about a disease called, “hanahaki”.
I clicked on the first one That I saw.
“Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love. The side effects include coughing, nausea, regurgitating\coughing up blood, and in most cases, a heavy dispersion of a flower related to their lover. The infection can be surgically removed, but the feelings often leave with the flowers-”
I went back as soon as I had seen it.
This was very similar to what I had, but I should keep looking.
“Hanahaki disease is a slow, painful disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with the victim coughing up a few petals, but often grows in intensity and pain. If not treated, it can be fatal.”
I blinked.
I didn’t want to forget Deku.
If the disease is caused by unrequited love, what happens if we do love each other after the fact?
It seemed so obvious. If we could just, magically love each other, things'll be peachy?
I did not believe it. I could not.
But I needed to deal with it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do I love Yuga Aoyama?
I don’t know.
Iida seemed frustrated today.
I approached him, my shoes louder than I’d like them to be.
He turned around swiftly, his hands grasping my shirt collar.
I squeaked.
He turned to face me.
“Deku” His glasses were glazed over with the reflection of the lights.
“Are you gay?”
I hesitated.
I was, but I wasn’t.
“I-” I stammered. “No. Yes? I don’t know. Is it possible to like both?...”
Iida tensed.
“No,” he said coldly.
He turned away from me, and thrust me far from his body, as if with confusion.
“Stop being a fool. You can’t like both, that’s-atrocious”
I smiled. “I guess- I don’t know then. I’ll figure it out”.
What.
I was no artist in my eyes, but the picture I was drawing was beautiful in its own way. The lore behind it was what had drawn me to look back on it for years.
The image was of a large golden butterfly, black stripes and patterns stretching across its wings and body.
My hands were content.
My mind was not.
How do people tolerate sitting in the same room as an angel?
-------------------------------------------------------
If I had the choice to be sitting behind Deku, I would change my seat. No hay problema.
But, unfortunately, my view of Deku was across the room and a bit behind me. If I turned around to look at him, I might be accused of cheating, or not paying attention. But all I wanted to pay attention to was the short, green-haired boy.
Last night, I felt like I had been shaken awake.
Like I had been pinned down and cold water was dunked onto my face,
Deku was amazing to me.
I cared for him in a way that was now possible for him to requite.
I wanted to look at him.
It might sound creepy, but he was just so-so nice to look at.
My throat itched.
I had a cough for the last few days, but Aizawa told me just to drink water and rest.
It would be easier if it just-didn’t keep scaring me so much.
Every day.
Little sprouts bloom from every open hole in my face and body. They grow out of my pores, mouth, ears, nose, fingernails, sometimes even my eyes.
I’ve lived like this for almost a year now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Deku has something to do with it.
It started when I had first laid eyes on him.
The first few days were all blood and gore.
Then it evolved into all that and the green-tinted blooms.
I never cared to research it.
Must have never crossed my mind.
After the bell rang, I pulled out my phone. I searched, “Why is my body dispersing flowers at a rapid rate?”
Much to my surprise, there actually were some articles on it-something about a disease called, “hanahaki”.
I clicked on the first one That I saw.
“Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love. The side effects include coughing, nausea, regurgitating\coughing up blood, and in most cases, a heavy dispersion of a flower related to their lover. The infection can be surgically removed, but the feelings often leave with the flowers-”
I went back as soon as I had seen it.
This was very similar to what I had, but I should keep looking.
“Hanahaki disease is a slow, painful disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with the victim coughing up a few petals, but often grows in intensity and pain. If not treated, it can be fatal.”
I blinked.
I didn’t want to forget Deku.
If the disease is caused by unrequited love, what happens if we do love each other after the fact?
It seemed so obvious. If we could just, magically love each other, things'll be peachy?
I did not believe it. I could not.
But I needed to deal with it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do I love Yuga Aoyama?
I don’t know.
Iida seemed frustrated today.
I approached him, my shoes louder than I’d like them to be.
He turned around swiftly, his hands grasping my shirt collar.
I squeaked.
He turned to face me.
“Deku” His glasses were glazed over with the reflection of the lights.
“Are you gay?”
I hesitated.
I was, but I wasn’t.
“I-” I stammered. “No. Yes? I don’t know. Is it possible to like both?...”
Iida tensed.
“No,” he said coldly.
He turned away from me, and thrust me far from his body, as if with confusion.
“Stop being a fool. You can’t like both, that’s-atrocious”
I smiled. “I guess- I don’t know then. I’ll figure it out”.
What.
I was no artist in my eyes, but the picture I was drawing was beautiful in its own way. The lore behind it was what had drawn me to look back on it for years.
The image was of a large golden butterfly, black stripes and patterns stretching across its wings and body.
My hands were content.
My mind was not.
How do people tolerate sitting in the same room as an angel?
-------------------------------------------------------
If I had the choice to be sitting behind Deku, I would change my seat. No hay problema.
But, unfortunately, my view of Deku was across the room and a bit behind me. If I turned around to look at him, I might be accused of cheating, or not paying attention. But all I wanted to pay attention to was the short, green-haired boy.
Last night, I felt like I had been shaken awake.
Like I had been pinned down and cold water was dunked onto my face,
Deku was amazing to me.
I cared for him in a way that was now possible for him to requite.
I wanted to look at him.
It might sound creepy, but he was just so-so nice to look at.
My throat itched.
I had a cough for the last few days, but Aizawa told me just to drink water and rest.
It would be easier if it just-didn’t keep scaring me so much.
Every day.
Little sprouts bloom from every open hole in my face and body. They grow out of my pores, mouth, ears, nose, fingernails, sometimes even my eyes.
I’ve lived like this for almost a year now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Deku has something to do with it.
It started when I had first laid eyes on him.
The first few days were all blood and gore.
Then it evolved into all that and the green-tinted blooms.
I never cared to research it.
Must have never crossed my mind.
After the bell rang, I pulled out my phone. I searched, “Why is my body dispersing flowers at a rapid rate?”
Much to my surprise, there actually were some articles on it-something about a disease called, “hanahaki”.
I clicked on the first one That I saw.
“Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love. The side effects include coughing, nausea, regurgitating\coughing up blood, and in most cases, a heavy dispersion of a flower related to their lover. The infection can be surgically removed, but the feelings often leave with the flowers-”
I went back as soon as I had seen it.
This was very similar to what I had, but I should keep looking.
“Hanahaki disease is a slow, painful disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with the victim coughing up a few petals, but often grows in intensity and pain. If not treated, it can be fatal.”
I blinked.
I didn’t want to forget Deku.
If the disease is caused by unrequited love, what happens if we do love each other after the fact?
It seemed so obvious. If we could just, magically love each other, things'll be peachy?
I did not believe it. I could not.
But I needed to deal with it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do I love Yuga Aoyama?
I don’t know.
Iida seemed frustrated today.
I approached him, my shoes louder than I’d like them to be.
He turned around swiftly, his hands grasping my shirt collar.
I squeaked.
He turned to face me.
“Deku” His glasses were glazed over with the reflection of the lights.
“Are you gay?”
I hesitated.
I was, but I wasn’t.
“I-” I stammered. “No. Yes? I don’t know. Is it possible to like both?...”
Iida tensed.
“No,” he said coldly.
He turned away from me, and thrust me far from his body, as if with confusion.
“Stop being a fool. You can’t like both, that’s-atrocious”
I smiled. “I guess- I don’t know then. I’ll figure it out”.
What.
What am I?
---------------------------------------------------------
It can be said that I’ve been asked all sorts of questions. But when young Midoriya approached me, I had not been surprised.
I’d just never been asked by a fledgling gay what our terms meant.
“Aizawa-sensei-with all due respect-”
“Can I like-Like both genders?”
“Gender?” I stared at him.
He lifted his eyebrow.
“Can’t tell you about something that doesn’t exist-” I mumbled under my breath.
I knew what he meant though, but failed to see why people had to apply gender to everything.
“I know what you mean. And yes, you can.” I yawned, looking the other direction in a very uninterested way.
“You can?! Iida said-Iida said that you can’t!”
“So you're basing your opinions on what someone else tells you? Sounds particularly weak of you, Izuku Midoriya”
“I once cared about other people,” Aizawa chuckled. “Then they said I was someone I wasn’t”
My mouth twisted its corners upward, forming my awkward smile.
“Imagine having a gender,” I said between clenched teeth.
Midoriya cocked his head to one side.
“But- your a boy?”
I snorted. “Picture this Midoriya. You wake up in a female’s body. It sucks, right? Cause you know that internally, you simply can’t be a girl, right?”
Midoriya nods. “I guess that makes sense”
I nodded. “Except in my case, I couldn’t conform, so I gave up”
He looked so confused.
“I’m obviously not a dude, right?”
He blinked.
“I never thought of it that way”
I snorted.
“It confuses everyone.I have no gender, But I’d still say that I am gay. You can be anything you want to, as long as you set your mind to it. You like girls, you like girls. You like boys, fck it, you like boys. You hate everyone, hll, same.You like everybody, can’t relate, but go for it”
He looked so inspired.
“So i’m not weird?!” He yelled it.
I shuddered. I had remembered a time where I had felt the same.
I remembered a time where I’d wake up every morning and everything was still there.
And then I’d be found on the ground, screaming and crying. I’d pound at the floor, bruising my hands and breaking my fingers.
I’d tear myself up, because it almost felt as though I wasn’t a real person.
I laid my hand on Midoriya’s head.
“You are not weird, Izuku Midoriya. You just sort of, are”
He looked up at me in a weird way.
I lifted my hand and shooed him off.
He skipped off, full of a sort of, grandiose energy that could not be described.
I sighed. I could not, for the life of me, understand him.
But I could help him fill the blanks, so everyone else could read him better.
----------------------------------------------------------
I was a bit confused.
Why was being attracted to people so confusing?
And apparently, gender was just as confusing, if not near impossible to interpret.
I had paused, noticing that Aoyama was walking by.
I stared at him, but he must have not seen me. He was chatting with Mina.
I knew he couldn’t be wrapped around my finger 24\7,or even at all.
The guilt crept back to its perch. I pounded my chest, wheezing out a petal.
All well, I guess.
My gut ached.
As my eyes blurred, I questioned why I still stayed. Why I still went through all this trouble just to end up hurting those around me.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
“Due to the intense events of this school year, we will be holding a dance, it is for all classes”
Aizawa’s voice was bored-and perhaps a bit nervous.
But me, I was very nervous.
maybe, possibly, even on the brink of a breakdown.
Because as soon as the words came from Aizawa-sensei’s mouth I knew.
I knew that unlike many years before this, there was actually a chance I would be asked out to said party.
And I don’t know how I would handle that.
And I don’t know if I should.
Without internally discussing the conflict any longer, I continued on with my day.
After sparring(and\or Bakugo serving me swift kicks in the pants for over an hour)I made my way through the halls, staring at my notebook.
Another empty page.
I flipped it. Two empty pages.
I never went a day without making notes.
And yet, I couldn’t write a word. Everything was muddled and foggy, and my brain felt as though it were running on some engine it had borrowed.
The fuel was anonymous, seeing as I had not eaten nor slept much at all.
I had wondered what kept people like me going.
Or if people like me were real at all.
Aizawa-sensei had already explained my attraction mishap, but that wasn’t all there was for me.
I had found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my work recently, and the walls I had built around my mentality to further protect it from debbie-downers who would doubt me were crumbling. I think people can say whatever they want to me now, and maybe i’ll even take it seriously.Take it into consideration, much like a survey at the end of a hotel stay.
My brain was teeming with an overwhelming feeling of doubt and rage.
Rage at Katsuki, rage at All Might, rage at my mom, rage for villains, rage for even him,the boy who had done nothing but lift the pain off my chest.
Most of the pain, at least.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
‘I wanna be alone, alone with you, does that make sense?
I wanna steal your soul, and hide you in my treasure chest.
I don’t know what to do, to do with your kiss on my neck.
I don’t know what feels true, but this feels right so stay a sec.
Yeah, you feel right so stay a sec-’
The vinyl scratched as it was stopped suddenly.
My green bangs fluttered across my forehead as I turned onto my side under my blanket.
I felt so undeniably petty, zoning out while relating to sappy love songs.
I rubbed my fingers around the hem of the coarse quilt coating my mattress.
Then gripped them tight enough to strangle a quail.
I coughed.
I’d say that me being a dramatic emo is an understatement, but at this moment it felt like it was the only accurate description.
I sat up slowly, my index finger curling a strand of my hair.
My blanket was thrust aside in order to free my legs.
My feet then descended to the ground. They lifted my upper body, and my toes balanced it all out.
My head rolled about on my shoulders, feeling overweight.
My eyelids felt like several tons were weighing them down, pulling them over my eyes like drapes.
I leaned against the wall, my skin screaming as it came in contact with a poster.
My fingers tapped rhythmically on the wall, only creating familiar sounds of candy unwrapping.
I made my way to the restroom like this, as though the world had been tipped over and was hanging off balance.
My hands eventually wrapped around the cold doorknob and thrusted it open.
I tip-toed to the shower and opened the curtains.
I undressed slowly, my shirt collar getting caught on my large head and ears.
Afterward, I lifted my right leg into the tub, followed by the other one.
I had once been told that bathing in cold water could help you lose calories, and god knows how much weight I carry on these legs every day.
I turned the knob to the farthest end of the blue stripe, shuddering as freezing water poured around me like the bottom of a turned over hourglass. My knees met the bottom of the tub with a small tapping noise.
I rubbed my knees and raised them to my chest.
My chin dropped onto my kneecaps.
As the loud water barricaded my ears from all the noises of the outside, my brain drifted into deep thought.
I closed my eyes.
All that I could see was the dead grass ahead of me. It looked as though I was in a valley or something of the sort. I relaxed my legs and let them slide to the grass.
My eyelids were no longer heavy, and floated over my pupils calmly, like the fluttering of a butterflies’ wings.
My lungs constricted. My ears went numb. My lips were cold and stiff.
My arms were heavy. My legs felt as though they were chained to the floor.
---------------------------------------
Normally, the antics of another barely fazed Aizawa, but in the case of a child way too late for his class, they had to intervene in order to carry on with the day. After it had become clear that everyone had already tried knocking on the door, Aizawa resorted to much more drastic measures. They grabbed the doorknob and tore it off its resting place. Afterward, they pushed the door lightly, and to no one’s surprise it swung open.
In the bedroom(besides the All might shrines in every corner, everywhere) Posters were torn down, and clothes were strewn across the floor. There were signs of a struggle. Aizawa stepped into the bedroom and sighed. They did not have the time for this. They banged on the bathroom door. “Izuku Midoriya! You are about to be marked tardy!”
At that moment, the door swung open to reveal a short pale boy wearing a medium robe around his body.
His eyes were sunken in and his lips were chapped. His ears were red and his cheeks rosy. “A-apologies, Aizawa-sensei!” He stuttered, bowing to his teacher.He then slammed the door. Ten minutes later, he opened the door again, but this time he was fully dressed.
He was gathering his hair in his hands nervously. He was trembling and his previous appearance had not been altered much. He quickly pulled his hair into a small ponytail and rushed past Aizawa, who looked off with a puzzled expression.
----------------------------------------------------------
Izuku Midoriya.
Looks amazing in a ponytail.
I mean, of course!why not?...he looks amazing overall…
but today is slightly different-his style looks rushed, smeared, like the work of a misused makeup brush, or a feisty baby refusing his soft food. It is making me uneasy. Even so, it makes my heart flutter all the same. This boy makes it impossible to hide inside a closet.
His wild hair sways side-to-side as he writes and shakes his head. I try to hide my urges, but I cannot.My face is red, my hair is curly. I mustn't ruin my own style admiring his own wild composure.So as the bell tolls, I grab his arm. We are skipping a class today.
----------------------------------------------------------
Two boys scurry down the halls quietly, holding each other close and trying not to laugh. They both said they were feeling uneasy to get out of sparring, which was believable given their quirks.
It was so easy.
But so wrong. So bad. So-
Irresistible.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The boys stumbled over one another’s feet; making their way somewhere; or, maybe nowhere at all. Maybe beyond here, beyond the farthest reaches of our imagination. Maybe they were floating amongst the noir sky, among the stars, heading toward their burning rendezvous; maybe they were drifting down a cool creek,in a moisture-ridden forest; or it could be that they were simply on the carpet floor of a dining room, holding eachothers hands and whispering lullabies to themselves; maybe they were touching each others faces, wondering if it was all real. Maybe one was hiding in the other’s warm neck, inhaling the scent of versace perfume and the strong scent of strawberry shampoo in their golden locks; maybe their hands were intertwined-perhaps their lips even met, colliding with one another-a strong contrast between the one’s silky smooth ones against the other’s chapped, dry red-tinted lips, teeming with the obvious signs of neglect;
Maybe.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Izuku Midoriya was a lot of things.
Being in love was one of them.
And even so, his life carried on around him-but not his mind-his mind was paused in one place-paused in Yuga Aoyama’s sweet embrace.
Oh, how he wished he wasn’t so in love.
“Midoriya”
His eyes went up faster than the reproduction of bunnies.
“Yes?” Deku said, absent-mindedly.
Iida stood over him, a worried expression on his face.
“Are you sick? Your face is-very red” he asked.
Deku shivered and coughed.
Petals were still there, somehow.
“I’m sick-reaaaal sick” Deku chuckled.
Iida felt his forehead. “Are you?”
“Iida- I think I have a bad case of that-boy-is-fine-as-h*ll-itis”
Iida backed off.
“Whom is?”
“Oh-someone. A very special someone”
His eyes were glazed over, and he seemed to be in another world.
“What-” Iida’s face was one of pure confusion.
“IS that WhY-”
“Deku-Are you dating Yuga?” Iida’s brotherly instincts kicked in.
Midoriya shuddered. He never considered the thought of them dating.
“How would I know? Look...I’m not very sure myself. I’m confused, but I'm kind of happy I don’t understand it, y’know?”
Iida seemed satisfied with the answer, mumbling incoherent words.
“I won’t judge, you know this right?” Iida said quietly.
“Iida”
“I mean, not my cup of tea, but you get it”
“Iida...I think you were wrong”
“About?” He responds, absent-mindedly. “About me only being able to like one gender. I know it makes no sense, but I like both, I think. I think I may be Bisexual…”
Iida stiffened. “...But-”
“Look-I don’t know what’s wrong with me” Deku’s eyes were shining a a tear fell down. “I make no sense. I’m a mess-I’m weak-I’m-”
“Where’d this come fro-”
“I’m worthless-I-”Deku suddenly inhaled very sharply, making a loud noise.
“I’m confused!I’m wrong!I-”
“Stop it,” Iida yelled. Deku shut up.
“I don’t know why you are acting like this. It is ridiculous” He sighed. “You can’t change someone’s mind by guilt-tripping them”
Deku sniffed. “I know” he whimpered.
“Then why’d you do it?"
(I'll edit this as i go)
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