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The first time he does it, it burns like hell.
In fact, he becomes sick at the sight.
The sight of red lines crying in his arm, but not because of an ordinary villain. He’s at the safety of his dorm, and yet he’s hurt, nonetheless.
Eijiro never thought this might happen to him, not even back in Middle School.
Although he treats the red crying, its remainders burn his skin still.
(And yet later, Eijiro wants his arms to cry again.)
(And again.)
(… And again.)
“Dude, looking at you might give me a heatstroke.”
Eijiro frowns at Kaminari’s hyperbole. The former is simply wearing his gray blazer while everyone else is comfortable in their short-sleeved white shirts. Admittedly, it is kind of hot today, but Eijiro didn’t imagine his friends would bother.
“Jeez, it’s not that hot,” the red-eyed boy scoffs.
“Are you kidding me?” Sero overhears. “You’re usually the one sweating the most in our class…”
“How are you not dying?” Kaminari insists.
“Okay, why the heck is my uniform such a big deal to you guys? Sheesh.”
Sero and Kaminari eye each other and soon give up the strange interrogation.
“Alright, whatever. But if you actually have a heatstroke, don’t count on me.” Kaminari turns around to the blackboard far away. “Go rely on Todoroki.”
Eijiro rolls his eyes when the bell rings.
Problem is, he doesn’t pay attention. The fabric of the uniform is sharp against his skin. He can’t even pull up his sleeves or excuse himself to the infirmary, otherwise he’d be exposed.
His hands are restless, turning into fists every five minutes.
“… Are you sure you’re not having a heatstroke?”
“Kaminari, I’m fine.”
Inbetween classes, his yellow-haired friend realizes something is actually off. Kaminari pops up in his thoughts every now and then to ask if he’s really okay. Eijiro only shrugs it off – mostly as Aizawa-sensei won’t be merciful on them for chatting in the middle of class.
At lunch, though, Eijiro ends up on his own. Mina went to talk to the other girls, and Kaminari and Sero caught up with Shinso. Eijiro told them to go ahead and have fun.
And now he’s sitting alone, eating in silence.
It’s not that bad, really.
However, all the voices in the cafeteria become unimportant to him. Eijiro tries hard not to remove his blazer in public; he only does so in the restroom, staring at the red cuts on his arms. They’ve been stinging the entire day, and only now does he get to treat them with some ointment.
When the bell rings again, Eijiro puts up his same smiling mask to reassure his friends, who were worried he might’ve gotten late.
Everything is fine.
The following days manage to be worse.
Eijiro doesn’t quite have it in him to burst in laughter when his friends do. He’s the quietest he’s been. The most uninterested he’s been in a long, very long time.
Kaminari, Sero and Mina ask him. Plenty.
(He really doesn’t want to yell at them to stop. That wouldn’t be manly at all.)
Eijiro tells them he’s just tired.
… well, that’s not far from the truth. He is tired. Tired of class, of everyone. They’re all so loud and big and they won’t stay away from him. He knows he needs to dedicate himself to schoolwork, he knows he can’t get behind again; but he’s simply losing interest.
Not that he can tell his friends about this, of course. Eijiro knows it’s not their fault. This is all on him.
In the end, the red-haired teen walks alone to the dorms, his classmates walking way ahead of him, excited to have their movie night. No one is forced to go, obviously… but they’re surprised when Eijiro declines, when he’s usually the first one in line to support their fun times.
He tells them he’s going to bed early, when in reality he’s sitting alone at the roof. It’s been a rather safe place for him these days. It’s so quiet up here.
Eijiro stargazes.
And both his arms scream.
They still beg to hurt.
That’s why no one would understand.
Not even he does.
His black sleeves obviously serve for protecting civilians in rescue… but they also help himself, too. So the world has no idea.
Training classes go on like usual, and he manages to fight normally despite everything. He also changes with his back to his classmates, so there’s no commotion.
And it’s going to be another lonely day at lunch, when…
“Kirishima-kun, wait up!”
He surely wasn’t expecting Midoriya and his friends to reach him today. Midoriya is joined by Todoroki, Uraraka and Tsuyu, the three of which share the concerned smiles the former gives him.
“We’ve noticed you’ve been eating alone lately, Kirishima-kun,” Midoriya says. “Would you like to sit with us?”
“H… Hey, don’t worry, guys,” Eijiro smiles nervously; he admits he appreciates the intention. “I’m okay.”
“Well, feel free to join us anyway, Kirishima-kun!” Uraraka offers. “Besides, Deku-kun has something he’d like to show you!”
“EH?!” Midoriya’s cheeks turn red. “U-Uraraka-san, it was supposed to be a surprise!!”
“Oh, haha, my bad!” Uraraka waves her hand, clearly not regretful.
While Eijiro isn’t sure what they’re talking about, he can’t help a little smirk at Midoriya’s flustered moves. Even in his gloomy days, the green-haired boy always manages to get a smile out of him in one way or another.
“Alright then,” he decides, finally.
Uraraka, Tsuyu and Todoroki sit in front of Eijiro and Midoriya, though the trio seems to engage in an entirely different conversation, possibly to give the latter some privacy. Eijiro wonders what this is all about…
“U-Um… so…” Midoriya takes something out of his pocket. “I f-found this the other day!”
He hands it to the other boy… and Eijiro’s eyes widen.
“A… Crimson Riot documentary?”
“Yes! It’s a rare documentary that was never aired on television! A few facts about his origins and his journey as a hero that we don’t see often! And I checked, it’s all official,” Midoriya winks, but soon blushes again. “I-I thought you’d like it since, y’know, you’re a big fan and all!”
“Wow, gee…” Eijiro lets out a flattered laugh. No one has given him a gift like this, if not for his mother. It makes sense, though, since Midoriya is an expert in hero lore. “Thanks, Midoriya,” he says with a genuine smile.
“Hehehe, you’re welcome!” Midoriya rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks still red. In fact, they seem to redden even more, if that’s possible. “A-Actually, I w-was wondering if… um…”
“What?”
“Uh, it’s… yeah… I—”
Another voice speaks up, “He wants to invite you to watch the documentary with him.”
“TODOROKI-KUN!?” Midoriya exclaims.
“Don’t look at me like that, Midoriya. I just wanted to help you.”
The green-haired boy looks like he wants to beat Todoroki up, but he quickly recomposes himself, “A-Anyway, yeah! That’s what I was trying to say! I-I thought of watching this in my dorm, if you don’t mind? I mean, I d-don’t think Kacchan would be too happy with me right beside his room, and I have a DVD player in my laptop, I already tested it and all. B-But don’t feel pressured, of course!! I’m just curious about Crimson Riot, though, he’s not a hero I know that much about and learning about him would be interesting for my studies and…”
Midoriya goes off to a nervous tangent and Eijiro kind of hates to admit he finds it endearing. But he should soothe the poor thing.
“Uh, yeah, I’d love to, Midoriya.”
The other boy interrupts his train of thought, green eyes sparkling. “R-Really?”
Eijiro snorts, “Sure, bro.”
“Oh! Okay, great! H-How about we watch it tonight? W-Well, if you’re free?”
Eijiro considers, “huh, sure thing.”
“Awesome! Is 8 PM good?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Alright! Great! Great…”
From the corner of his eye, Eijiro notices Uraraka giving Midoriya a thumbs up. The latter glares at her for a second there.
The rest of lunch, however, goes by like nothing. Eijiro is, well, excited to watch the documentary about his favorite hero with Midoriya… but the lines under his sleeves bite his joy, and then the red-eyed teen isn’t focused anymore.
He wonders if he’ll even be able to enjoy his time with Midoriya, but now it’s too late to go back.
Tonight grows a lot colder, and for that he’s grateful.
Eijiro realized too late that his hair is already growing black roots, so some might show in his red spikes. He also decided to let his rebel hair down, mostly to facilitate his sleep later.
He knocks on the door and is quickly received by a smiling Midoriya who, unlike other days… is wearing a red shirt this time.
“Kirishima-kun, hi!” The boy says, taking Eijiro out of his trance.
“Hey, um… y-you look good.” Eijiro’s eyes widen. “I mean, in red.”
“Oh! Y-You think so?” Midoriya’s face is as red as his shirt. “Thanks! Thought I’d wear it for the occasion!”
He’s so cute it’s unreal, Eijiro sighs with a smile.
“Y-You, uh, you look nice, too,” Midoriya compliments.
“Heh, thanks.”
“Yeah…”
Eijiro dumbly stands at Midoriya’s front door, staring at his own feet. Midoriya clears his throat.
“U-Um, come on in! I’ve got everything ready!”
Eijiro is accustomed to all the All Might merch filling his room, but he takes notice of a bowl of popcorn, some soda and the laptop waiting for the boys on Midoriya’s bed.
“This is really nice, Midoriya,” Eijiro compliments.
“Yeah, I… I’ve noticed you haven’t been feeling so well lately, Kirishima-kun,” Midoriya gulps. “I hope this cheers you up a little.”
Eijiro smiles at his friend’s kindness, though the back of his mind makes him feel the burns on his arms again. Newly red tears have been scarring his skin once more.
He swallows them; mostly, so Midoriya’s effort doesn’t go in vain. And Eijiro wants to feel better, too.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s do this!” Eijiro cracks his knuckles together with a grin, Midoriya imitating the gesture in support.
The boys arrange themselves on the bed, the popcorn standing between them and the laptop on each’s legs. They’re somewhat… very close to one another, and Eijiro finds it quite comforting for the cold night.
When the documentary starts, Eijiro feels like a little boy watching Crimson Riot on TV with his parents. He used to wear his merch on a daily basis, maybe to comfort himself from how much he hated his quirk.
… And then the bad memories come to him. The scars. The storms.
And suddenly, it doesn’t feel as nice anymore.
Eijiro’s arms are yelling throughout their watch. Midoriya pays attention and even gasps at some of the action scenes, like the fanboy that he is. Eijiro should be reacting this way as well. But he isn’t.
He stares at his sleeved right arm with grief as Crimson Riot’s voice rings through his ears. Not even his favorite hero is encouraging him. Eijiro expects the entire documentary to go by, like everything has been in the past days, when it suddenly… stops.
“Kirishima-kun?”
Midoriya is no longer fanboying – he’s staring at Eijiro, apprehensive.
“Oh. S-Sorry, Midoriya,” Eijiro smiles. “I kind of lost myself there, huh?”
The other boy obviously doesn’t buy his excuse. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I can tell it isn’t nothing, Kirishima-kun.”
“It’s… look, don’t worry. It’s just- my own unresolved nonsense.”
When a hand touches his arm – right where the red tears are –, Eijiro flinches hard.
And Midoriya’s eyes instantly widen.
“Kirishima-kun, are you hurt?” He asks.
Then he realizes he’s stuck in a dead end.
All this time, Eijiro was able to escape from his friends’ questions. But now he has no way out. It’s just him and Midoriya, and Crimson Riot in a way to remind him of his unrevealed past and demons. Eijiro has dodged everything until now.
Truly, not a very manly thing to do.
Eijiro’s hands clench in fists, his eyes averting from Midoriya’s concerned ones.
“… do you promise not to tell anyone?”
Midoriya might hesitate, but he says yes.
For once, Eijiro admits his crime.
His sleeves no longer hide the self-inflicted wounds, at this point the red tears dry. They look uglier every time Eijiro checks on them, and now that Midoriya sees it, they only look more abhorrent.
He expects Midoriya to say something. Anything, really. Even a scared, hurt question. Why did you do this? Why are you hurting yourself?
But… it’s not what happens.
Midoriya leaves his bed for a moment to turn on the lights and to grab something. Eijiro doesn’t take long to recognize a first-aid kit in his friend’s hands, then Midoriya sits in front of him and carefully takes his arms.
“I’m going to put some salina in them, okay? We don’t want them getting infected,” Midoriya says simply.
Eijiro is so shocked that he lets him.
“Y-You’re…” he lets out, “you’re not…?”
Midoriya looks up.
“I-I mean… aren’t you going to say something?” Eijiro questions.
His friend raises an eyebrow. “What do you want me to say?”
He asked it in a genuine way. What does Eijiro want? Does he even know?
The touch of the cotton with salina is the gentlest his arms have felt in the past days, so much so that it leaves Eijiro without words. Midoriya is quiet as he tends to the wounds. The red-eyed boy notices, however, the look on the other’s face.
“… Midoriya?” Eijiro calls him before he thinks.
Once again, he has no words to describe his thoughts. But Midoriya seems to read him like an open book, even after Eijiro has tried so hard to keep it to himself.
Midoriya pulls up his sleeves even if slightly, and Eijiro sees it.
Beneath the already known scars from the Sports Festival, there are others Eijiro has never taken notice of before. Scars already healed, but they’re present, nonetheless.
Eijiro’s heart drops.
“Midoriya…” he whispers.
Despite the implications, Midoriya smiles at him and continues treating him, giving no details. Eijiro doesn’t demand.
“All done,” Midoriya eventually says, having bandaged Eijiro’s arms.
It… helps. At least Eijiro doesn’t have to face his ugly cuts now.
He’s not bombarded with any questions. Not from Midoriya, at least.
Still, he’s forced to talk.
“I thought… I couldn’t let anyone know. I’m supposed to be a hero. A man,” Eijiro whispers. “But this isn’t manly at all, is it?” His voice quivers.
Midoriya doesn’t answer – if not for careful, understanding hands over his white bandages.
Eijiro’s eyes twitch and hurt, and flood.
Then he’s pulled forward.
Midoriya hugs him and says nothing still. Eijiro doesn’t say anything else, either.
But Eijiro hears a long conversation from this.
And then he’s sobbing the hardest in years.
Time goes on but not unnoticed this time.
Minutes, maybe an hour passes by when Midoriya faces him again.
“If you ever feel like doing it again… please let me know, will you?” He requests.
Eijiro looks down but nods.
“Okay.”
Midoriya cups his face and dries his tears.
“Do you want to continue the documentary?” He proposes.
Eijiro nods. “Um… do you mind watching it from the start?”
“Kirishima-kun, I’ve watched and rewatched dozens of documentaries for at least thirty times each. That’s not going to be a problem.”
Eijiro laughs. Midoriya truly is a fanboy.
Midoriya replays the Crimson Riot documentary, and this time Eijiro watches the whole thing. Their bodies are glued to one another, warming themselves up in the cold.
Eijiro’s arms, finally, stop hurting.