Work Text:
Shouto didn’t have many certainties in his life but one: he wasn’t born to be happy.
He used to think, when he was younger, that it was just a matter of time, that things would get better, that he would be happy and loved one day, but it never happened. Ever. His life was simply a mess of misery and hopelessness and Shouto knew it would never improve.
He was never truly loved, not really. Not by his mother, who couldn’t see past his features and simply scarred him forever. Not by his father, who merely saw him as a weapon, a convenience. Not by the one he loved, who barely saw him as a friend.
He was not enough, never enough.
His friends had more interesting friends, who had more interesting lives, who talked more, who shared more. Who smiled and had no reservations in showing their thoughts and feelings.
Shouto was never truly missed anywhere. He was a mere convenience, be it for his powerful quirks or for his contacts. He was never really that important to anyone, he never actually made a difference.
It hurt more than he let on, but he didn’t really have anyone to talk about what he felt deep inside. Izuku would pity him or try to fix him, try to force a friendship that wasn’t really there. Momo would blame herself. Iida… wasn’t really an option. Katsuki wouldn’t give a damn.
He was alone and he knew that. He knew that and still, it hurt so much that Shouto didn’t know what to do with himself. Those feelings were overwhelming him to the point that he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even cry , his whole body shaking in absolute helplessness and desperation.
Shouto always thought he would be alone, but he never knew it would be so painful. He never thought he would fall in love, that he would get a taste of what friendship felt like. And he loved and hated it at the same time.
Katsuki only acknowledged his existence when it was convenient to him and Shouto, being the idiot he was, relished in every second of it. He loved the explosive blond with every fiber of his being, so he would get what he could, as pathetic and pitiful as it sounded.
They both worked for Endeavor, much to Shouto’s joy and suffering. Maybe his father noticed his feelings and was truly a sadist, exposing Shouto to Katsuki’s presence every single day to torture him. Or maybe the man simply recognized how awesome Katsuki was as a hero and decided to give him a chance, since the blond saved Natsuo’s life, after all.
Shouto didn’t really know the answer, but he knew he couldn’t deal with any of that anymore. He simply couldn’t.
He stared at the ceiling, noticing the time passing and knowing that he should get ready for work, but his body refused to move. The phone rang incessantly, until the battery died, and he couldn’t really care, closing his eyes and hoping that sleep claimed him and gave him relief from his miserable existence.
At least for a few hours… at least, until he could find strength to deal with life again, since sleeping for forever wasn’t really an option. He was a hero, he had lives to save, and that was the only thing that kept him going. It was the only place that he actually mattered.
So that was his only life purpose. Shouto was broken, completely damaged, but being a hero erased it all. It didn’t matter; who he was, what he felt, what he had been through.
And Shouto preferred it like that. At least, it didn’t hurt. At least, he didn’t need to think about his deep loneliness, his feelings, his emotional baggage. He could simply be.
It was better like that.