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Orange is the color of my love
Oboro Shirakumo. Aged 17 years old. Student at UA highschool. Dead. Crushed under falling debris during a villain attack. Lover of both Shouta Aizawa and Hizashi Yamada.
The days they spent together, now only live on as cherished memories between Hizashi and Shouta. They’d never be able to make more. Unfortunate, really. Oboro didn’t deserve to die that day. Both Shouta and Hizashi believed as much, each thinking that it should have been them that day.
They loved Oboro with every fiber of their being. The nights they spent together at either of the threes houses after a night of studying would be no more. It hurt.
Fragile orange wind in the garden
They visited Shirakumo’s grave every day, leaving his favorite flowers, Sakurasou’s. He always said it made him think of both of his partners. His never ending love for them shining through every time he bought them both a bouquet.
Oboro was always a fan of nature. He always said it helped him feel more in touch with his quirk. It always made sense though, clouds were important. Without clouds there wouldn’t be rain. Without rain, plants would die, animals would die, forests would cease to exist. Without clouds, there would be death. Nothing but death.
Fragile means that I can hear her flesh
After someone close to you passes away, you’ll never be the same. The smallest things might remind you of them. Even something as common as a simple color.
Pieces of you that seemed stable break apart, the smallest things able to set you off. Hizashi and Shouta dealt with the grief differently on the outside, but they were the same on the inside. They had both lost their boyfriend, their lover, their best friend.
Crying little rivers in her forearm
Even without Oboro, they had each other. That’s what they told each other when it got hard. They might have appeared fine to their classmates and teachers, but they cried in each others arms when they were alone.
They never left each others sides for fear that the other might cause harm to themself. Shouta held Hizashi as he cried, and Hizashi held Shouta as he cried. Thin white lines roughl6 painted on each of their wrists, a constant reminder of the grief and pain that Oboro’s death caused.
Fragile is that I mourn her death
Grief was such a strange thing. For Hizashi, the grief didn’t set in for weeks. Almost like he didn’t want to believe Oboro had died. It wasn’t until the day of Oboro’s funeral that he shed a single tear.
Shouta only cried by himself or with Hizashi. He didn’t want other people to see him cry. He didn’t cry at Oboro’s funeral or burial service. Not even when he realized that on that day, not a single cloud appeared in the sky. It was like they had vanished completely, some sort of cruel joke on them.
As our limbs are twisting in her bedroom
After the funeral, they went home with Oboro’s parents. They were a mess. It was understandable, they had lost their son. Their first born child.
They slept in Oboro’s room that night, while his room still smelled like him. Before the dust began to collect, and Oboro’s parents were forced to put away the reminders of their late son.
The tears felt almost endless that night. Their grip on each other never loosening. Both of faces stained with tears, eyes red and puffy. That was the first peaceful night of sleep they had since Oboro died. Next to each other, tangled together under the blankets they once shared with Oboro.
Lies, lies, lies
Months passed by without Oboro. After the depression, Shouta felt empty. He missed Oboro and felt guilty about not being able to protect him.
Hizashi always told Shouta it wasn’t his fault, just like Shouta had told him. Yet, he never believed it. Shouta hated liars, yet he couldn’t bring himself to even dislike Hizashi in the slightest. He didn’t know why.
Hizashi also blamed himself. He only admit it once. Shouta reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, he never brought it up again. He never fully stopped blaming himself. He never believed Shouta to be of fault for Oboro’s death though.
Lies in her eyes
Shouta stopped talking about his feelings after a few months. Whenever Hizashi asked, he always claimed he was fine.
Hizashi knew he wasn’t. He could see the sadness in his boyfriend’s eyes whenever they visit Oboro’s grave to lay the Sakurasou’s in front of his headstone. Shouta refused to share his feelings with anyone anymore, not even Hizashi.
It was slowly tearing them apart.
She tells me to close and count to ten
They remained together for two years after Oboro’s death. They slowly drifted apart as Shouta began to train more and more so he could protect others like he couldn’t do with Oboro. Hizashi continued to distract himself, starting his own podcast. He enjoyed it.
Exactly 2 years, 3 months, and 9 days after Oboro died, Shouta and Hizashi went out together one last time.
Shouta broke up with Hizashi. He explained how he needed to focus on his hero work, and their relationship was doing nothing but distracting him. He still loved Hizashi, but his feelings were clouded. He refused to move on. He couldn’t just forget about Oboro.
Shouta left Hizashi standing in the same spot, as he walked away. Hizashi knew it was coming, he could feel Shouta drifting away from him. Yet, somehow, he still wasn’t prepared.
As she wanders freely through the forest
Fate surely has ways of screwing you over. Yamada and Aizawa separated ways a year after they graduated from UA. Aizawa became an underground hero, working in stealth. Yamada became known as the voice hero, his podcast eventually turning into his own radio show.
Neither of them were happy. A hole remained in their lives, one that appeared the moment Aizawa walked away from Yamada on that day. It never went away, no matter how many good things happened to them.
Can I close and open once again?
Yamada didn’t date anyone after Aizawa. Sure he’d met other people, but none of them ever felt right. He never got that same spark of joy he felt when he first met Oboro or Aizawa.
Aizawa stopped talking to people apart from hero work. He closed himself off to everyone. Kayama texted him every once in awhile, but he either didn’t respond or just gave her short one word responses.
Yamada wanted Aizawa back, more than anything. He missed what they used to be, and he yearned to return to his highschool days even though he would consider them the worst years of his life.
The question that I seek for reassurance
Losing each other meant losing their pillar of stability. No ones arms to cry into when they got upset, no one to reassure them that they were perfect just the way they are.
Would things be different if Oboro had lived? If Yamada or Aizawa had died in his place?
Aizawa never really responded to Kayama’s text messages until she told him that she signed him up to be a teacher at UA. Something about him needing so socialize more, apparently.
Lies, lies, lies
The first day teaching at UA went by pretty slowly. He hated every second of it, resentful towards Kayama that she had dragged him into this.
It wasn’t until his second day he saw Yamada working there as well. He was the english teacher, which made sense. He was always good at english.
Aizawa remembered the late nights spent in Yamada’s bedroom back in highschool where he helped him and Oboro study for upcoming tests. He was always smart. Aizawa wouldn’t say he missed those days, no matter how obvious that lie was.
Lies in her eyes
The two continued to not talk, despite now being coworkers. Yamada had tried to talk to Aizawa plenty of times, each time he just got shrugged off. Aizawa said he was going to quit at the end of the year.
He didn’t quit, he continued to teach. He never told anyone why, but both Kayama and Yamada knew that it was his way of making up for what happened to Oboro back in highschool. No matter how many times he had always been told it wasn’t his fault, he always felt he had to make up for it.
Hound dogs crowing at the stars above
Their second year teaching at UA, Aizawa and Yamada had been paired together to train some students. It was obvious that Kayama had put them up to this, yet neither of them argued or tried to get out of it.
It was an improvement from them never talking before. The tension between them was so thick that even the students could see it. Rumors began to speculate about them, ranging from them being bitter exes (which was the closest rumor they heard) to them secretly messing around with each other after school.
Pigeons fall like snowflakes at the border
Slowly, they began to talk more. It started off with Yamada simply greeting Aizawa as he walked into the staff room, and Aizawa nodding gently in return. Those nods turned into hellos, and before they knew it; the two had full conversations with each other.
This was Kayama’s plan since the beginning. She got sick of seeing two of her closest friends shut each other out after they lost the third member of their little trio. Signing them both up to become teachers started off extremely rocky, as expected. They never spoke to each other, even if Yamada tried to get Aizawa to open back up.
She kneels down and holds the frozen dove
They were friends again. It felt like decades since they’d last talked, in reality it had only been a few years. In that time though, they had basically become strangers to one another.
Their hangouts began to become more frequent, Shouta usually by Hizashi’s side when they were alone. Even if every chair in the room was empty, he’d pick the seat next to Hizashi. It had been years since either of them felt like this. A warmth under their skin as they talked about their day and how their classes went.
It reminded them of highschool. The good parts. The times when Hizashi would stand up to Sensoji when he was being a prick towards Shouta, the times when Shouta would help Hizashi when the blonde got overstimulated. Back when they still loved each other.
The moon drips like water from her shoulder
Hizashi made the first move, hoping to rekindle the flame they had believed they lost years ago. He asked Shouta out to dinner, expecting Shouta to reject the proposal. Surprisingly, he agreed.
They didn’t do anything fancy, since it wasn’t an actual date. At least it wasn’t, according to Shouta who refused to let Hizashi take him anywhere expensive.
That night ended with a walk throughout one of the many parks spreads across the city. They weren’t dressed in suits, just casual wear you would see a group of friends in the mall wearing.
They walked for hours, talking about the small things. Their interests, and hobbies. It was the best night either of them had since before Oboro’s death. Something they both so desperately have needed for years, yet never sought to find.
Flies, flies, flies
Shouta and Hizashi loved each other again. Truly they never stopped loving each other. Now that they had each other again, it was like half of the hole inside their hearts healed. They both knew the rest of that hole was for Shirakumo, but that would never be filled. Not anymore.
Years passed, and they move into their own apartment together. It’s a small apartment, Hizashi decorated it. Shouta didn’t bother adding his own touch. He claimed it was illogical since they were almost never home, and planned on upgrading at some point in the future.
Flies from her eyes
They did upgrade eventually, and moved into a bigger apartment. They ended up fostering a young boy for a few months. His name was Hitoshi Shinsou. Shouta had saved him from an abusive household, and agreed to foster the boy.
Shinsou got formally adopted into their family on his 14th birthday. He decided he wanted to be a hero, just like his new dads. Hizashi and Shouta were supportive.
Orange is the color of my love
Life was finally looking up. Shouta and Hizashi had each other, and now they had a son. They couldn’t imagine life any different then what it was now.
Then, the next school year started. It started roughly, Shinsou unfortunately not making it into the hero course like he had hoped. Shouta assured him that it was still possible to become a hero. After all, he started in the general education course as well.
No matter what happened, they all had each other and that was all that mattered.
Fragile orange wind in the garden
Shouta’s class this year seemed to ring trouble wherever they went, which meant stress. Constant stress. A new dorm system got implemented, which complicated a lot. It was safer for the students though.
Then, war happened. A war between the villains and heroes. They dragged the students into the war. Even after the time spent at UA, all the villain attacks they went through, all the trauma they already had. They still got sent to war.
Things just continued getting worse. Shouta and Hizashi found out that Kurogiri was actually Oboro. They had used his body to make a villain. Someone who once dreamt of becoming a hero, someone who died protecting others. Turned into a villain that was the complete opposite of what he wanted. It was sick.
Fragile means that I can hear her flesh
It continued to get worse. Things were finally getting better, but they’re getting worse again. Nemuri was dead. Shouta and Hizashi only had each other now. Unfortunately enough, Shouta seemed to have the worst luck. He got heavily injured, and damaged his quirk in the process. It got weaker. He also cut off his own leg to stop one of the quirk erasing bullets from taking effect.
The war sucked. Shouta and Hizashi missed Nemuri. She was the entire reason they got back together in the first place. If she hadn’t somehow gotten them placed together in training that one day many years ago, then they might never have patched things up between them.
Crying little rivers in her forearm
Shouta and Hizashi had each other for Oboro’s death, and they have each other for Nemuri’s death. The difference between now and then, is they’ve matured. When Oboro died, they were high schoolers. They’re adults now.
That doesn’t mean they didn’t cry. They both cried at Nemuri’s funeral. Everyone did, even the sky. It didn’t feel right, having buried two friends in their lifetime. Especially at the ages they died. They should have grown old with Shouta and Hizashi, not end up six feet under before reaching 18 or 35.
That night, they held each other and cried. Neither of them masked their emotions.
Fragile is that I mourn her death
No matter how many years had passed between Oboro and Nemuri’s deaths, one thing remained the same. It left Shouta and Hizashi torn. What else are you supposed to feel when your friends die?
Mourning Nemuri’s death wasn’t so different from Oboro’s, but now that they were older, they were able to handle it better. More maturely. They didn’t bottle everything up in order to appear perfectly fine to everyone else.
They finally allowed themselves to be fragile this time. To be broken and shattered instead of refusing to allow themselves to be seen with even the slightest hint of sadness on their face.
As our limbs are twisting in her bedroom
They slept in their own bed after Nemuri’s burial. Once again, holding one another tightly throughout the night.
Throughout high school, they always relied on the other for comfort. This time, they didn’t bottle everything up. Both of them got a therapist they’d talk to. Shouta and Hizashi both understood that they couldn’t keep everything inside them forever. It would just destroy everything they’ve built together over the years.
It was going to be ok. They were going to be ok.