Chapter Text
Hitoshi lays in bed trying to ignore the way his hands itch for the bottle in his nightstand, he ignores the way his stomach twists in knots, he ignores the way he craves to take something, anything, to keep himself a float.
He's been staring at the glow in the dark moons and stars for so long that when he forces his eyes shut he can still see them imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. It's not long before he fumbles his way to a sitting position, his eyes still shut in hopes he can forget where he is.
He reaches for his phone under the pillow and tries to forget how pathetic it feels to have the hotline as his first speed dial.
It’s become a routine, one that hitoshi barely pays attention to; he just answers when it gets quiet.
He keeps his eyes closed, his voice low, and his fingers pinching the inside of his arm.
“I haven’t been sleeping.”
“A week.”
“I have a therapist.”
“Yeah.”
“In my nightstand.”
“I hate the after effects.”
“I like them too much.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
A sigh works its way out of his lips a moment passes before he’s popping the top off of the orange bottle, he thinks how nice it would be to take them all, to just nustle himself under his covers and watch the sunrise through his window as his eyelids feel heavy and his body feels like tv static.
He thinks how easy it would be, he could slip away forever, maybe he’d be able to see bright amethyst eyes peering into his own lavender, could smell lilacs and vanilla once again.
Or maybe he’d go somewhere new, somewhere just as safe, somewhere with vibrant green leaves rustling in a soft breeze, a place where firm green grapes crack between his teeth, a rooftop with the best view of the stars and moon, a place where spring days blend perfectly into summer nights. It would be something warm like slightly sweetened coffee or kitten purrs, a faint smell of smoke accompanied by piano keys.
He’s not sure where this dreamscape comes from or why it feels so familiar or why the specific shade of yellow green feels like home or why smoke and classical music makes his heart ache with want but it does and he can’t shake the feeling of emptiness no matter how hard he tries.
(In another part of town in a home that settles in with a slight chill Shouta places firewood into the fireplace before sitting at the grand piano, his soft onyx eyes glancing over his shoulder where he meets blonde hair and gentle malachite.
As his fingers dance across the keys Shouta thinks they should keep the closeted purple throw blanket on the back of the couch.)
He swallows a handful. It's not enough to give him an out but it's enough to take the edge off, to bring his mile a minute mind to a halt, to let the noose around his neck feel less restricting.
He wonders when he let himself get this bad, this broken, this dependent on a variety of pills.
He wonders when he allowed himself to abuse them.
He tells himself it's the only thing that makes his hands stop shaking but a thought that gets swept away tells him they only make his eyes so blurry he can't tell that they only shake worse.
It's the only way he can get through the day because these ones actually work so it's only fair he takes them, it doesn't matter how much or how often.
It's a small piece of paradise, a swell of warmth that melts in his chest.
It's so euphoric that he’ll chase it until the sun dies.
***
Normalcy doesn't come quick and it sure as shit doesn't come easy in the weeks and months after hitoshi performs his disappearing act.
In fact everything becomes worse.
Between Aizawa, Yamada, and Midoriya it's like he never has a moment to himself, he thought if he showed how okay he was how fully functional he can be they'd leave him alone but Aizawa's eyes burn into his skull, Yamada’s hands keep him up steady and Midoriya sweet insufferable Midoriya knows exactly what hitoshi is hiding without Hitoshi ever having to utter a single word.
So when hitoshi thinks too much about it so much that he becomes so paranoid and his hands don't stop shaking, when swallowing pills doesn't do the trick he calls the hotline, he picks and prods at himself, he does something anything for a second of feeling like he’s in control but nothing helps.
It's not until he builds the courage to raid Mrs. Tanakas meat freezer after everyone has gone off to bed, that's where he takes the hidden ice cold tequila bottle into even colder fingers.
(He knows she won't miss it; she can't even unscrew the bottle top to take a whiff before she gags so hard her eyes water only to fight to get the cap back on and toss it to the very bottom, long forgotten.)
He drinks from the bottle until he sways and his body feels like it's been lit on fire, it’s then he lets himself sink into a fresh pile of snow, the tree leaves blow softly in the icy winter breeze, the moon shines brightly in the dark midnight sky.
It's where everything feels right in his mind.
(Faintly in his alcohol muddled brain he can smell lilacs and vanilla, he can even taste smoke and citrus.)
He lays there long enough to hear the birds sing in the early morning sun, the warmth in the pit of his stomach has slowly seeped out of his body, the only thing being left is the numbing chill of ice.
His teeth haven't stopped chattering behind ashy blue lips, his thoughts drift through his mind as slow as he would in a lazy river.
It's a few more moments before he forces himself up on trembling legs, getting himself through his window and into bed is the second hardest part of the whole experience the first is trying to undress himself of his cold wet clothes and redress in fresh warm ones before tumbling into bed to sleep off the rest of the lingering alcohol effects.
***
Hitsoshi sits across in a chair that he's sure has molded itself to perfectly hold his body, his therapist looks at him over the frames of her glasses, she's his favorite person to ever exist, she takes his shit but she gives as good as she gets, that alone has her in his good graces, that and the first part of her name means Star so he's sure she was meant to help him.
Hoshiko watches hitoshi fidget in his seat, she silently picks him apart in her head, filing every part of him into her memory, shes learned that with hitoshi his words don't mean much his truth lies in his body, the way he stutters on a breath tells her hes trying not to cry but the sob sits in the back of his throat, the way he pinches the inside of his arms screams he needs help anchoring himself back into the room back into his chair, back into his body, the way he holds strong eye contact lets her know to read between the lines, to receive his plans his fears his hopes, so she brings up his safety plan and they go through it together.
Visiting Hoshiko brings hitoshi relief but it also forces him into a spiral, hes met with the words behind every action aizawa, yamada and even midoriya don't ever dare to speak in fear of spooking hitoshi like some strange feral ally cat and in a way he is and in a way he's thankful no one musters up the courage to voice words their actions scream.
Hoshiko gives hitoshi advice to seek midoriya out, to see how alike the two boys really are. Hitoshi claims that they eat lunch together and study in the library during free period hes often with midoriya but hitoshi know that's not what she means he knows she wants him to take midoriya to the abandoned playground, sit him under the willow tree that hitoshi often naps under and spill his guts to the wide green eyes, green eyes hitoshi knows will glitter with unshed tears, tears that will stain hitoshi’s black sweater with salt.
To have lunch be a hangout instead of just using midoriya to not eat alone.
To make a friend that'll last a lifetime.
He lies and tells her he will.
Hoshiko takes the lie for what it is.
***
Yamada hugs and pats and leaves lingering touches on hitoshi more often now, he thinks it's because yamada sensei is afraid he’ll disappear for days again but hitoshi doesn't have the certainty to convince his teacher he won't so every now and again he’ll lean into the gloved hand and the smile yamada gives him is worth it.
Aizawa increases hitoshis training days from two days to four, his sensei also made it a habit to peek into the classrooms he's in during the day, like if aizawa doesn't keep an eye on him hitoshi will vanish into thin air.
Midoriya seeks hitoshi out more often as well, lunch, free period, before and after school, midoriya greets him.
“Good morning shinous!”
“See you tomorrow shinsou! Get home safe!”
“Did you finish the book for class? Do you wanna do the worksheet together?”
“What are you having for lunch today?”
It's all insignificant chatter but for some strange reason it's the most normal he's felt, he knows midoriya can read him like a book, knows when Hitoshi’s inner war turns violent and cruel, knows the difference between a quiet hitoshi and a silent one.
For as much time as they spend together for as much as they know about one another for as much comfort midoriya brings him, He wonders why he never asked for more.
(it took lunch on a random monday for hitoshi to realize hoshiko was right, that she's always been right and she always will be, so he curses her name and takes a too large bite of his sandwich so he can't answer izuku’s question.)
(Across town Hoshiko curses as her tea spills all over her desk but she moves quickly to make sure it doesn't ruin her notes from her session with hitoshi, she can always make another tea.)
***
“We’re friends now.”
“You've always been friends, Hitoshi.”
“I call him my friend now.”
“How does that feel?”
“Like a death sentence.”
“For you?”
“For him.”
Hitoshi picks and prods at the inside of his arm, it's littered with old and new bruises.
He's not to sure why he felt the need to bring that up maybe it's because izuku really is his friend now and hitoshi can't hide the guilt that one day izuku will wake up to message hitoshi good morning only to not get a response, that izuku will be anxious all morning until he gets to school and Aizawa sensei will pull him aside and tell izuku about how his foster family found his body and that as much as hitoshi jokes that izuku would be the first to die unless he used that big beautiful brain of his, he actually beat izuku to it and by his own hands.
The guilt curls around his stomach.
Hitoshi has always known he wouldn't live long; he knows it just as much as he knows he wants to be a hero.
***
For once in hitoshis life he decides to listen to Hoshiko like actually listen to her so friday at lunch hitoshi slides into his seat directly in front of Midoriya.
“Are you busy after school? I was thinking we could hang out.”
The look on Midoriya's face is all Hitoshi needs. His green eyes are wide and sparkly and like a kid on Christmas that got exactly what they wanted.
“Okay muscle bunny, meet me at the front gate.”
The rest of lunch there's this zing in the air between the two of them, hitoshis lunch goes down easier, his coffee a little sweeter, his heart a little fuller.
It's what gets him through the day.
(Hitoshis tried to count all the little things, the squeeze yamada sensei leaves on his shoulder when he walks past his desk, Aizawa peeking through the window on the door at 9:15, 11:45, 1:20, and 2:37 every day on the dot, lunch with midoriya, and now hanging out with midoriya after school.)
The day passes quickly, Hitoshi almost regrets inviting Midoriya to his tree he could really use the nap but then he sees midoriya standing at the front gate searching through all the students for a head of wild lavender Midoriya's eyes narrow to zone in on him and when he does he waves his arms high in the air, it's something so small but it makes him feel so much, it even pulls a smile on Hitoshis lips.
The walk is comfortable, the spring weather is perfect there's idle chatter and bumping of shoulders because for the life of them neither can walk straight to save their lives Midoriya even made a joke out of it about them being bumper cars that ripped a laugh from hitoshi so loudly that it shocked both of them causing another round of laughter.
***
They talk for a couple hours sitting under his willow tree until the sun starts to settle on the horizon and the bright blue sky starts to dull and deepen with pinks and purples. Hitoshi rest his head on midoriya's shoulder the conversation has slowed the air has a bit of thickness to it and he knows Midoriya wants to ask why he invited him and why Hitoshi disappeared but it’s Midoriya and Hitoshi knows he’s more in tune with him than he’d like to think so he picks at the grass, setting the plucked blades into Midoriya's open palm.
“I'm sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Guilt curls in his stomach he hates that Midoriya just gets him he hates that he can look at him and understands it all.
“Midoriya.. I don’t think we should stay friends.”
“Because you’re going to leave or because you’re scared I’d leave?”
“Both.”
“Mm, I won’t leave if you don’t”
“That’s not a promise we can make.”
Hitoshi stills when he feels midoriya rest his head on his, he can feel the way midoriya inhales the sigh he lets out.
“We could in spite of it all.”
“We could.”
So they sit together long after the sun dips below and the moon hangs delicately against twinkling stars, Hitoshi spills his guts and in return so does Midoriya all their secrets stay hidden underneath the moonlight and the willow tree branches.
“Hitoshi.”
“Hm?”
“I want you to call me Hitoshi.”
“Only if you call me Izuku.”
It’s sweet and hitoshis heart feels like it grows three sizes. It reminds him why springtime is his favorite, their friendship blossoms with all the sakura trees.
***
They wrap up the night after that hitoshis chest aches but the good kind the ache of being so full and satisfied he can’t help but smile every time he looks at izuku now.
(It’s small barely there but izuku knows so he shoots Hitoshi one of his best smiles it makes hitoshis eyes widen and shimmer in the light the smile on his lips tugging just a bit bigger)
He walks izuku to his bus stop and waits until he watches the green haired boy find a window seat, he doesn’t leave until they wave each other off again he still doesn’t leave not until the bus turns the corner.
The smile slips off his face and all the warmth feels like it’s been ripped from him, he regrets not joining izuku back to his dorm, regrets choosing to let the ice creep in.
Once he’s in bed his phone buzzes and izukus' rice covered face pops up on the screen.
Glass Bones: made it to my dorm are you home?
Me: just climbed in bed
Glass Bones: goodnight Hitoshi (:
Me: goodnight izuku
Me: (:
He smiles reading the messages, it’s not much but it’s enough to bring back some warmth until his lip quivers and his eyes well up with tears that don’t stop spilling no matter how hard he wipes his eyes.
He felt good, great even, he’s not sure why good and great are replaced with this overwhelming feeling of grief. He can’t figure out why having a good night makes it feel like his whole world is crashing around him.
After all he said to izuku, spilling his guts about his dreams and his fears, how izuku just gets him and the little ache in his ribs about that, he was happy for once in hitoshis life he was happy and now he can’t make any sense of it but he would like nothing more than to end it all.