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It doesn’t fit anymore. Nao’s hand clenched in her lap. Her nails dug into the soft bed of her palms threatening to draw blood at any moment. Tears and snot drowning her face as she tried desperately to wipe them away.
Why didn’t it fit anymore?
Her throat burned unbearable and the moment she opened her mouth a choked sob would threatened to free itself. She was so lonely that it hurt, but she couldn’t tell them. What about their hard work? What about how often they’d come home in way worse conditions than they’d left. How should she do that to them?
It didn’t fit anymore. Trying to piece the mask back together only cut her fingers leaving the floor shattered in her blood and clay.
Why could she do? What if they decided she was no longer worth the laughter? No longer worth the patience and kisses? No longer worth the moments that they’d muster enough energy to provide for her?
They’d had this discussion before. Many times. She wore a smile and told them she understood their schedules, but she wanted nothing more than for their happiness. She wanted them to know themselves outside of hero work. Who was Katsuki? Who was Ejirou? When could they make time for Nao?
It took time to heal her traumas. The abandonment of her family. The loss of her dearest friends. The loss of her dreams to perform under those heated lights as she moved an audience to tears. It was gone in the blink of an eye.
She thought we had addressed this time and time again. When she thought she had grown so much. When she fell in love with her body, her hair, the way her eyes glistened in the sun. Then her mother entered her life again, and slowly took a part of her little by little.
Nao watched as her hard work slowly crumbled before her face, but this time...it didn’t fit any longer. With poise and a heart full of love, she spoke openly. Full of love for her mother, but mostly herself.
It drained the living hell out of her, and it hurt like nothing before. Her tears hadn’t stopped for days, and the heavy anxiety of expressing her truth weighed her down. She never felt so free.
Her teary eyes would smile in the mirror as the hysterical laugh crept from her trembling lips, “After twenty-three years...I finally realized how much fun I am. I realized how beautifully simple I am with the complexity of understanding existence itself. I understand that I embody unconditional love. A deep love that I deserve to give to myself and those who deserve it.”.
The harder she worked, the less it fit.
Those she held dear could see if without a second glance. A sunflower standing tall shining her brilliant light, compassion and love onto all those around her. She spoke nothing but truth, and remained steadfast in its solidity.
Then it happened again.
She wanted even the smallest moment of intimacy, the smallest inkling of time. To feel their souls reach hers in vulnerability and self aware communication for even just a moment. She would take even surface intimacy . Her soul cried for anything. Even a smile meant for her that didn’t secretly hold the burdens of the world on their shoulders.
Wait, she needed to stay strong and create her own happiness. She had to...She has...She needed them. Why couldn’t she say it? Why did it hurt so much to tell them she needed their love just this once.
‘You can’t need anything. Remain perfect or they’ll leave.’
It didn’t fit anymore.
Her eyes glared into her crossed legs. Her fingers clasped and nails scratching at the skin. The air suffocating, and the heavy silence of her energy blaring as the tower fell.
“Please…”, her small voice pierced the silence. Tears drowning the last of her words.
Kirishima’s hands trembled, and Bakugou’s lips pressed into a thin line. Neither of them deserved to touch her, not even in comfort. They watched her heart shatter in the moment of a breath.
The one who suffered in silence. The one who worked hard to create a warm love no matter how hard she’d truly been suffering. She...broke.
“I’m sorry...I didn't...I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. I promise I’ll work on this.”, Bakugou couldn’t look at her. He stared into his hands, the tears rimming his own eyes.
Nao’s lips trembled as she spoke. She choked on her sobs in an attempt to speak.
Kirishima gently placed his hand atop hers. The warmth of him seeping into her for what seemed like months upon months.
It didn’t fit anymore.
Her heart couldn’t take it anymore. The words spilled from her lips regardless if they could understand or not. She poured and poured, the purest waters filling the oceans barren and lifeless. They’d captured such a beautiful butterfly and watched as its life dwindled, but in its majesty it burst through. It could no longer live in the confines. It yearned to be free beneath the sun, in the warm breeze. To feel life in a new way everyday. To experience the lessons and be thankful for each and everyone. Because those lessons...only taught her to love herself and the world she created around herself deeper.
Bakugou’s nose scrunched as he tried untangling the jumbled words. The anxiety and frustration boiling against his skin, “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”.
Nao’s became still, and the men in front of her held their breath. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath. She allowed it to fill her in its life giving careless before releasing it to help heal those around her.
In calm and collectedness, but without hesitation she spoke, “What do you both want?”.
“Well that’s a broad question. I want a lot of things.”, Bakugou answers in a confused voice. The pitch in his words rising and falling in the same breath.
Nao nodded blinking before turning to Kirishima. She quietly waited for the words to leave his still lips.
“I don’t know…”, his voice sounded almost broken. Had he answered correctly? Is this what she wanted to hear?
Nao opened her mouth to speak only to be met with further jumbled noises she’d hoped had been words, “You can’t even say you want me.”.
The years of laughter. The talk of starting a family. The gentle kisses. The creation of separate worlds, and their beautiful effortless melding.
Kirishima stood from his spot beating Bakugou to the punch. The desperation dripping from his words, “Of course we want you! We love you! We want a family and future with you.”.
Nao watched as Bakugou’a hand massaged the blanket before speaking without though, “I don’t doubt that. I don’t doubt your love, but that shows how little you know about yourselves. How could I ask to experience you, when you don’t even know you?”
Bakugou continued delving his hand into the warm blanket unsure how to comfort himself in this moment, “H-How can we? How do we figure out what we want?”.
“It took a lot of introspection on my part, as well as self awareness and accountability like nothing else. You have to be raw with yourself. Completely bare.”, Nao paused a moment the anxiety of the situation building even further in her stomach, “I started with therapy. It helped create coping mechanisms and equipped me with the tools I needed to dive into myself.”.
Bakugou’s hand stopped moving, but he didn’t remove his gaze from it regardless. As if her words needed time to process and truly seep into him. His fixed jaw slowly opened, stopping their grinding motion, “I can do that. We can do that. For real this time.”.
Kirishima nodded holding his arms close to his body, “I agree. Our future wife cannot be placed on the back burner any longer...neither can we place ourselves there.”.
Nao gave a weak smile and stopped her unconscious rocking, “Thank you...can I have a hug now? I’m feeling really anxious.”.
Bakugou nearly flew across the bed encasing her in his arms. She slowly relaxed until her face buried in his shoulder, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. This is still challenging for me to do.”.
Kirishima gently stroked her hair, the small smile on his lips, “You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you for being vulnerable with us and showing us so much patience. You’ve been so patient. I’m sorry.”.
“You’re so much stronger than us...you don’t even realize. I love you so much.”,,Bakugou muttered into her ear.
Nao felt the sign leave her lips, the anxiety only subsiding a bit. It was the step in the right direction. She could see it in their eyes, but she mostly felt it in their hearts.
She would walk besides them every step of the way. She would be their rock as they were often hers. The tower had collapsed. The toxic cycle stopped clear in its tracks. There could only be harmony at the end of their story. That was something she felt deeper than her own ocean.
The mask...it no longer fit.