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The door creaked softly as Izuku pushed it open. His eyes were heavy with unrest, head pulsing. Silence filled the hallway, almost everyone was asleep at this hour. The wooden floor felt cold under his naked soles, small thumps punctuated each new step he took. Moonlight leaked through the windows in the living room, giving everything a translucent, almost shiny texture. Completely different from how it was during the day, it almost felt like a different place.
Turning away from the sight, he headed toward the main door. The night’s cool breeze brushed his face as he stepped foot outside, crickets cried throughout the place, and the only source of light came from the moon above, a bright circle on a dark blue blanket, mottled with white dots. Light rained down on one boy who stood in the center of Izuku’s vision. Immediately sensing his presence, he turned towards him, eyes wide and ready to fight—and he relaxed upon seeing who he was. Dark eye bags were prominent as always, wild indigo hair droopy from the obvious lack of sleep, clothes disheveled and uncared for in the moment. It was like looking into a mirror.
“You can’t sleep?” Hitoshi asked. Izuku shook his head as he tumbled forward, the grass felt dry under his feet.
“No.”
“Me neither.”
They stood in silence next to each other for a moment. The dried blades dug into his feet, dirt got in between his toes. He didn’t bother cleaning them out, not yet. Soft breezes caressed Izuku’s cheeks, the trees’ leaves rustled and billowed alongside them. Light reflected on Hitoshi’s purple eyes, who continued to look ahead, unblinkingly. It was complete, undisturbed silence.
Izuku took a deep breath, and asked, “Do you think I’m trying enough?”
“Hm?”
Hitoshi looked at him inquisitively, and for a second, just one second, Izuku considered not elaborating. He was just being silly, wasn’t he? It wasn’t worth talking about it, it would just pass, like everything else.
The second that thought went through his mind, everything spilled from his mouth.
“I try, every day and every night, I’m just…” His heart beat just a bit faster, he licked his lips, a drop of sweat rolled down his neck, “I keep thinking I could do things differently, I keep replaying everything when I try to sleep, I keep thinking of stuff I could have done better and I just… Don’t feel like I’m doing enough.”
A second of silence followed, and he regretted ever speaking up. He was just being silly, it wasn’t worth talking about, he’d only made a fool of himself and now Hitoshi thought—
“Do you want my honest opinion?” His boyfriend looked down at him, mouth set on a firm line, eyes glinting, but kind.
“Please.”
Hitoshi breathed, and set his eyes squarely on him, “That’s for you to decide, but I think you’re trying more than you should.”
His head throbbed, and he almost laughed at that. Hitoshi was smart, cunning, clever—but just plain wrong on this one. If he’d been trying as much as he should, then everything would be fine now. They wouldn’t be having this conversation, because he’d be where he wanted to be. The thought that he should dial it back down was just absurd.
Clearly, the other boy had a different opinion. Hitoshi had told him before that whenever he was distressed, he was like an open book for everyone to read, and this moment was no exception. Frowning, he said, “I mean it, Izuku. We all try every day, but you shouldn’t kill yourself in the process.”
All thoughts halted. Not kill himself in the process, huh? He hadn’t thought about that. Logically, he knew it was a hyperbole—Hitoshi didn’t actually think he would kill himself, and realistically, he knew killing himself at the rate he was going wasn’t really possible.
Emotionally, though? The idea that trying just a bit more would lead to his death, before his goals were ever reached? It was an idea that made his stomach drop, his world stop, and say the first thing that came to mind, something that he immediately wished he hadn’t done.
“That’s ironic, coming from you.”
“Huh?”
Had he not regretted speaking up, he might have giggled at how alarmed the other boy looked, maybe even laughed. As it stood, he wanted to punch himself and apologize for ever bringing up something so personal, something he had no right doing.
And yet, he didn’t do that. Hitoshi’s reaction gave him something to think of, and it was that it seemed to be something he didn’t think of. Much like him. That was alarming for Izuku himself, and now he questioned what he should do next. Back off, or press further? Ignore the issue, or discuss it now for good?
He went for the latter.
Licking his dry lips, Izuku spoke up, “Your insomnia.”
“That’s—!”
“You keep insisting is not a big deal, but it is. You were barely standing today, I saw you.” Even with the moonlight, his eye bags were prominent, they almost complimented the purple of his irises, “You need to find a way to take care of that, and you know it.”
Hitoshi stared at him, lips pursed, but trembling. Izuku took a deep breath, and whispered, “Don’t kill yourself in the process, remember?”
For just one second, his eyes hardened. He expected a complete rebuke and assertion from the other boy that he was fine—before he sighed, and all tiredness flooded back into his eyes, “...I try, Izuku.”
“I know you do, ‘Toshi,” He tried to sound as gentle as he could, to sound as understanding as he was. He brushed his fingers against his boyfriend’s, and continued, “but there are better ways to go about it.”
“It’s not something I can just will away,” He turned away, eyes shut, “I can’t escape at night, everything just… Closes in on me. My past, my present, my future, what led me here, and everything I could still do wrong. My brain refuses to listen to me, it just yells everything at me, until I just… Pass out, or the sun rises.”
At a loss for words, Izuku stayed silent for a second. There was nothing he could say to make this better, nothing to will away their issues, and he knew he couldn’t. Slowly, as he mulled over what he’d said, it dawned on him what Hitoshi felt, and stated:
“You’re scared, aren’t you?”
The other boy looked back at him, and replied:
“Maybe.”
Hitoshi’s reply wasn’t guarded, or defensive, or open. It was just a matter-of-fact non-answer, and Izuku could relate to it, much more than he wanted to say he did. He let what was on his mind out in the open.
“To be honest, I am. We all are. Talk to me, Hitoshi. Please. Talk to us.”
“I do—”
“Not what I mean, and you know that.”
He sighed, “I’ll try, I just… I don’t want to dump my issues on you. I feel like I need to learn how to take care of myself first, but I don’t know how to start.”
“Neither do I, but,” Izuku’s fingers snaked up Hitoshi’s palm, and enlaced their fingers tightly, “we can figure it out, together.”
His boyfriend smiled lightly, and squeezed tighter, “I don’t think that’s something we’re supposed to do together.”
“Hah, you’re right, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean we can’t lean on each other, once in a while.”
Humming, Hitoshi didn’t reply to that. They fell into a comfortable silence, and Izuku laid his head on the other’s shoulder, not letting go of his hand. Breathing, he looked at the sky in front of them, stars twinkling, almost as if they were blinking at them. It was a beautiful night. Basking in the silence, he thought, and thought, and thought. He thought of everything and nothing at the same time, until suddenly, he was brought back by Hitoshi’s voice.
“So…”
“Yeah?”
“Are we going to continue our talk from earlier?”
Izuku sighed, of course he wouldn’t let it go. Well, Hitoshi had laid it all out bare for him, so it wouldn’t be fair not to return the same courtesy, now would it?
...Scratch that. It wasn’t that it would be unfair, it was that he didn’t want to keep anything from him.
So he spoke.
“I know I should be confident, given… Everything, and what everyone tells me. But I kinda hate myself.”
That was a bit hypocritical now, wasn’t it?
“That makes two of us.”
A startled laugh left Izuku’s mouth, Hitoshi chuckled alongside him. It wasn’t funny, at all, but he couldn’t help laughing—the whiplash was so bizarre it was funny. Eventually, his smile started slipping, and he continued, softly speaking:
“I keep thinking I should find a way to try harder, but…”
“But?” Hitoshi inclined his head, eyeing him carefully.
“I don’t know how to do it. I know what I want to do, I know what I need to do, I know what it takes to do it, but I don’t know how, or… Or even if I can get there. I don’t know how I can live the life I want to live.”
His boyfriend swallowed, and looked back to the sky. They had gone full circle now.
“You don’t want an answer, do you?”
“No.”
“Good, ‘cause I don’t have it.”
The breeze caressed them softly, the crickets had stopped chirping by now. Izuku breathed softly, “I think we should go back to sleep now.”
“Go back to trying, you mean?” Hitoshi teased, looking back at him with a mild smirk. Izuku giggled and nodded.
“Haha, yeah. Yeah, we are.”
Neither of them let go of their hands as they turned back toward the dorms. The grass was still dry, but it felt softer now, somehow. More comfortable. Maybe he’d just gotten used to the feeling, who knew. As Hitoshi pushed the door open, he murmured, “Be easy on yourself, Izuku.”
“I will if you are.”
“Deal.”