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Things had been unbearably tense since the quaint birthday party turned humiliating nightmare occurred only two weeks ago. Izuku’s arm was still tightly bandaged around the ghastly cut that curved up in a jagged line across his skin. Glass usually didn’t make clean cuts. Though the pain of it wasn’t at all what had been bothering him.
Shoto seemed perfectly on edge. Tensing whenever Izuku got too close— though he’d really believed he’d gotten over his ‘not too close ’ stage months ago— not staying over to watch him sleep as he always liked to do as his pass time during the evenings.
Izuku had been anxious about the consequences the birthday party would bring— and Shoto’s behavior was only egging him on. And it wasn’t only him— Izuku might have chalked up his anxiety as overthinking if it had been— it was the entire Aizawa clan. Ochako hadn’t gone back to school since that disastrous excuse for a party— and slowly, one by one, they had all begun to disappear from their usual lunch table. Izuku felt sick every day they weren’t there.
He tried to be reasonable— for his and Shoto’s sake. Maybe they’d gone on an extended hunting trip. Tenya had been desperate to avenge himself after losing control at Izuku’s idiotic blood spill. A simple paper cut was all it took. If only he hadn’t been so—
“You look like you’re thinking hard,”
Izuku shuddered at the familiar tenor of the voice, his body immediately perking up at the sound of it. Shoto — gorgeous and god-like — stood right outside of the truck door, offering one of his rare, glorious smiles. It was small, but it was effective in its wake.
Shoto seemed to notice when he had finally gotten Izuku’s full attention, coming back out of his dazzled daze.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked, opening the door for him and helping him out. It was completely unnecessary, but Shoto couldn’t help being a gentleman.
Izuku shrugged, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Just as he had learned to read Shoto’s face, Shoto had done the same for him. He couldn’t read his mind like he could with everyone else, and for that he would always be eternally grateful.
“You, mostly.” It wasn’t a complete lie. It wasn’t even really a lie at all. Shoto had been at the forefront of his mind for weeks now. Since the very first day they met, he felt.
He hummed in response, taking Izuku’s hand in his and gently pulling him towards the edge of the woods right outside his house. He was walking slow, as if not to disturb the peace. Or to not alert Izuku of where they were going. It was plainly obvious, he was almost offended.
“Where are we going?” He finally asked once they were a few steps onto the trail. Not out of distrust— but out of genuine curiosity. And maybe to humor him a little. Shoto never did anything without announcing it first.
“A walk, I suppose.” Though when they had stopped, they weren’t even a full three meters away from Izuku’s house. It could barely be considered a walk.
“You have something you want to tell me,” Izuku bravely assumed when the sounds of the wildlife around them prolonged for an odd stretch of time. “Is everything okay?”
Shoto inhaled slowly, letting go of his hand and standing up straighter than before.
“We’re leaving.”
Oh. Izuku’s lips formed a straight line across his face. That wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be. That was acceptable. That was okay. He knew this would happen eventually, but it seemed so soon. He was prepared, but he had to ask.
“Does it have to be now? Why can’t we wait another—?”
“Izuku, we can’t stay in Hokkaido anymore. Shota can barely pass for thirty, and he’s claiming thirty-three now. We would have to start over soon regardless.”
He was talking about his father figure— his family. It confused him. The point of them leaving together was so that his family could live in peace in Hokkaido— not having to deal with a weak, fragile human tagging along with them wherever they went, simply accepting him because Shoto had somehow fallen in love with him.
Izuku stared at him, trying to decipher what he meant. Shoto’s eyes were cold, hollow, and with a roll of nausea, he’d realized he’d misunderstood completely.
“When you.. say we—?”
“I mean my family and myself.” He enunciated properly, as if to make sure he heard him clearly.
And Izuku had. Almost too clearly. His words were ringing in his ears, ricocheting off the walls of his head viciously. Shoto was leaving.
He shook his head back and forth mechanically. Suddenly everything felt very wrong.
“I’ll go with you.” He said, trying so hard to keep the tremor out of his voice.
“You can’t, Izuku. Where we’re going isn’t the right place for you.”
“Wherever you are is the right place for me.” He insisted, just like he always had.
“I’m no good for you.”
“Stop saying that.” He wanted to sound angry, but in his own ears he sounded so heartbreakingly desperate. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I’ve told you before.”
“You don’t belong in my world, Izuku. Understand that for me.” Shoto said grimly.
Izuku was beginning to truly panic. “If this is because of what happened with Tenya— i-it was nothing!”
“It was everything to be expected.” Shoto reiterated, his stare growing harder.
Izuku shook his head quickly, taking an accusing step forward. “Y-You promised— in Tokyo— you promised to stay—“
“As long as it was best for you.” He quickly interrupted to correct him.
“ No ,” Izuku snapped, furious. Though— somehow, his words still sounded like pleas. “Is this about my soul? A-Aizawa-san told me about that, and I don’t care. You can have it— I-I don’t care! Just please — don’t leave m-me behind.”
Shoto took a deep breath and stared, unseeingly, at the ground for a long moment. His mouth twisted the tiniest bit. When he finally looked up, his eyes were different— harder, colder.
“Izuku, I don’t want you to come.” He spoke the words slowly and precisely, his cold eyes on his face, watching intently as he absorbed what he was truly saying.
Izuku repeated the words in his head over and over again, sifting through them obsessively, picking out their true intent.
“You don’t… want me?” The words tasted as awful as they sounded— like nails on a chalkboard, like the squealing of tires on the street. They almost confused him, placed in that order.
From the unmoving look on Shoto’s face, he’d gotten it right.
“No.”
Izuku stared into his eyes— uncomprehending, dazed, and dizzy all at once. Shoto stared back without apology, and nowhere in his eyes could Izuku see a fault that would contradict his words. This was it.
“Oh,” was all he could manage to whisper before his throat tightened with the impending tears. It didn’t feel real— it couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense, his words.
When he spoke again, he was looking up at the trees. “I will always love you… in a way. But what happened the other night made me realize it’s time for a change. I’m… tired of pretending to be something I’m not, Izuku. I’m not human.” He looked back, and his perfectly sculpted pale face was— not human. “I’ve let this go on for too long, I apologize.”
“Don’t,” His voice was just a whisper; awareness was beginning to seep through him, stinging like acid through his veins. “Don’t do this to me. Please. ”
Shoto only stared, and he could see from his eyes that his words were too late. He already had.
“You’re not good for me, Izuku.” He turned his earlier words on him.
That had stung worse than he could imagine. How well he knew that fact. That he wasn’t good enough for him. He had known that all along. He never thought Shoto would be the one to point it out first.
Izuku struggled to say something— anything. Shoto watched him patiently, his face wiped clean of emotion.
“If— If that’s what you want.”
Shoto nodded once and Izuku’s entire body went numb. This really was it.
“I have one favor to ask of you. If that’s not too much.”
What was considered too much and not enough anymore? Izuku was so lost, his mouth opened without him realizing.
“Anything,” he vowed without really meaning to. Promising him had always come so naturally.
“Don’t do anything reckless. I’m thinking of Yagi-san, of course. He needs you. Take care of yourself for him.”
Izuku nodded. “I will.”
Shoto seemed to relax just a little. “I’ll make you a promise in return,” he said. “I promise this will be the last time you’ll see me. I won't come back. I won’t put you through something like this again. You can go on with your life without any interference from me. It’ll be as if I never even existed.”
Izuku’s knees were going to buckle at any given moment— the trees were swaying— his blood was pumping too fast— he was sure he could hear it. And yet he never stopped. He kept talking; feeding into his panic.
Shoto smiled. It was glorious— lovely. Izuku almost recoiled at the sight. If he wasn’t so shaken, he might have.
“Don’t worry. You’re human— your memory is no more than a sieve. Time heals all wounds for your kind.”
“And what about you?” Izuku asked. He sounded as awful as he felt.
“Well—“ he hesitated slightly. “I won't forget. But my kind, we’re very easily distracted.” He was so adamant on distinguishing how different they were from each other.
When had Shoto realized Izuku was the problem?
He took a step away from him. “That’s everything, I suppose. We won’t bother you again.”
He tried to breathe normally. But everything was so wrong. He wasn’t ready for this.
“Goodbye, Izuku.” Shoto said in the same quiet voice.
“ Wait !” He choked, reaching out for him. For one stupid second, he thought that he was reaching for him too. Instead, Shoto grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them to his side, getting close to Izuku’s face and leaving a fleeting kiss on his forehead.
“Please take care of yourself.” He breathed, cool against his skin.
One moment he was there, an unnatural breeze ruffled Izuku’s bangs, and made the wet tracks streaking down his face feel colder than they actually were.
One moment he was there, and the next he was gone.