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Hitoshi ran throughout the campus of U.A. begging and pleading that he could reach the safety and comfort of his dorm room before the water in his tear ducts start to spill over.
Never once does Hitoshi look up from his shoes, relying on muscle memory and general spatial awareness to get to his destination. He feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, there’s a stitch in his sides, and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He doesn’t care about any of that though. He couldn’t. He’s got more important things to care about. Like getting to his room before anyone sees the state he’s in.
Hitoshi desperately didn’t want to think about what caused this. If he did, the nonexistent tears that were forming would arrive faster but if he just kept running everything would be fine.
Totally and utterly, fine.
A hair away from gasping for air, he passes through the hefty doors of the 1-A dorms as his eyes start to water. He’s grateful only a few of his classmates are on the ground floor. Hitoshi speedwalks to the elevator and fuck, he wishes that there were stairs instead so he didn’t have to wait and think in the stupid metal box.
Hitoshi presses the call button no less than four times. He knows he’s not supposed to press it more than once but goddamnit if someone catches him being so close to crying he’ll punch their lights out and tell blatant lies.
He is supposed to be the unfeeling villain after all.
He refuses to acknowledge that tears are trying to push through even harder.
Fucking hell.
Thankfully the ding of the elevator pulls him out of his thoughts and based on how long it took the stupid fucking box to get there he knows no one else is inside. Hitoshi trudges in, pushing the button for the third floor, and other than the hum of the elevator moving, it’s completely silent, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He hates it.
Hitoshi realizes how stiff his neck is, and even though it’s stupid, it drops into the metaphorical bucket full of overwhelming things that’s already overflowing and he’s that much closer to sobbing.
He needs a nap.
Or to spontaneously combust.
Whichever comes first.
The metal box opens its doors to his floor, thankfully, without any other stops, and Hitoshi speed walks to his room, shutting the door behind him. He leans against the door letting out a shaky sigh while rubbing his face with his hands. He’s here, he made it. It's not enough though. He's too damn exhausted to care about all of this and yet here he is.
Years of memories and experiences flood Hitoshi’s mind and every single one still hurts. God, he wishes he could just forget. But just like every time, he wouldn’t be able to. Even if he’s experienced this kind of shit for fucking years.
It’s amazing how he isn’t completely desensitized to it yet.
Hitoshi remembers he has another living being to take care of and looks over to the tegu enclosure, unlocking the sliding glass door, letting his tegu Repo freely roam the room. He decides against the idea of rotting on his bed until he falls asleep, instead sitting down on the floor, hugging his legs, and watching his tegu wander about. He hopes that tegu watching can stop the teeming urge to bawl
His eyes close, acting as a catalyst for the overwhelming feelings and emotions that are finally getting to him. Next thing Hitoshi knows, the tears that have been threatening to flow for the past little while follow through with their threat and are streaming down his face. There's nothing he can do to stop it.
He’s on the floor, sobbing. How pathetic.
Even though his eyes are closed, Hitoshi feels a familiar weight climbing up his legs and bent knees. He knows by heart that it’s Repo and despite that, the damn waterworks aren’t stopping like they usually would. The weight is still nice and welcomed though.
He’s able to feel Repo moving around on what little room there is on his limbs. Any other time the slight feeling of the tegu’s claws digging into his skin would be enough to ground and calm him but somehow this time is different. Hitoshi doesn’t understand why, as the reason for the tears is the same as always. Why would this time be so aberrant?
Hitoshi knows. He knows that people are assholes and bastards and every other word you can think of to describe people who are dicks and yet he still hopes that the interactions and reactions are different.
But they’re not.
They’ll never be.
He wants to pull Repo into a hug and squeeze the poor tegu to help release all of these dumb and stupid emotions but he doesn’t. He knows Repo wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure and burst- god that's an image he doesn’t want in his head- and he doesn’t want to hurt his best friend like everyone else has hurt him.
His tegu stills for what seems like forever, settling in a position that feels like it would be odd for the lizard, but the weight is still there. Signifying that Repo is still there on top of Hitoshi and hasn’t left. A weirdly smooth forked tongue then flickers just above his left cheek, where all of his tears are pooling.
Hitoshi opens his eyes to see the blurry outline and colors of his tegu balancing on his torso and his knees at the same time. It takes a moment for Hitoshi to realize what the tegu is trying to do. His tears slow down a little and Hitoshi gives a small, genuine smile to his tegu. “And people say reptiles have no feelings,” He says, voice wobbly as he pets the top of the Repo’s head. This seems to do the trick in comforting and calming him down.
Hitoshi doesn't know how long he's sat there on the floor petting Repo while the lizard flickers his tongue at his face. What he does know, however, is that the tears have stopped and how good it feels to be loved by his precious tegu.