Chapter Text
Izuku’s fists clenched as he stared straight onto his computer screen, as if the computer itself offended his mother.
Neko’s words kept repeating in Izuku’s mind, over and over, as if a broken record.
“Your song…it saved me…”
He gritted his teeth, determination taking place in his eyes.
He will save them all.
Izuku yawned as he stared at his computer screen, mouse clicking as his cursor moved around to adjust the melodies for the song he was making. He took a glance at the time at the bottom right of his screen.
03:47.
Ah. It’s almost morning already? Well, it didn’t really matter. Homeroom starts at around eight, and even if Izuku did want to get in some jogging exercise before classes, he still had enough time.
Suddenly, a ‘ding!’ made its sound known through Izuku’s headphone, a notification popping up on his screen. He clicked it, leading to a DM from one of his friends, Neko.
[Neko]
<M.>
<Your nightcord status is online. Are you still awake?>
<Still making that song?>
Izuku chuckled lightly. Even through a message, Izuku could practically feel Neko’s concern for him. But that would make Neko a hypocrite, seeing as the other was also an insomniac.
[M]
<You’re one to talk, you cat-obsessed insomniac>
<Why are you still up?>
[Neko]
<Touche.>
<I’m writing the lyrics for the song>
And that’s enough of an answer for Izuku. So Izuku sent Neko a thumbs-up emoji as a reply, clicked away from nightcord and back to his music composing program, and promptly groaned.
Another ‘ding’ of notification. This time, it came from his band’s server.
[Neinan]
<Hey>
<I know damn well that all of you are still awake>
[Meia]
<No shit Sherlock>
[Neko]
<Wow, who would've guessed.>
[Neinan]
<Shut the fuck up>
<VC?>
Unsurprisingly, the first one to get into the voice-chat room was Meia, and when Izuku got in, Meia practically yelled his greetings, making Izuku take off his headphones for a moment to get rid of the ringing in his ears. When he put them back on, he was greeted with Neinan scolding Meia and telling him to “Be a little quieter, please, it is four in the fucking morning,” .
After that, they continued their work, only this time instead of silence Izuku was accompanied by Meia’s groans about accidently making the timing of the video off, Neinan’s complaints about not getting the proportions and colors of his drawings right, and Neko’s occasional huffs of frustration for not being able to find the right words for the lyrics.
And maybe Izuku does too, slumping in his seat and ranting about his song sounding off-tune and wrong. And maybe he smiled a little when Neko laughed, Neinan combating his rants with his own complaints, and Meia teasing him about how he was supposed to be the musical genius of the group.
Izuku felt at home.
“Have you ever heard of NK25?”
“Oh! It’s that online band that’s been gaining popularity lately, right?”
Izuku almost choked on his own spit. The two girls from the business course don't mind him at all, walking past him while looking at something on one of the girls’ phones. He shook his head, his hold on his notebook tightening.
Izuku has successfully turned away his friends’ offer at joining them at the cafeteria for lunch, saying that he needed to meet Aizawa-sensei to talk about something. Which was a big fat lie, and Izuku would have to do something to either strengthen his alibi or make up another lie.
Either way, he managed to find a secluded hallway, practically empty with only occasional students passing by. He peeked into a classroom, smiling when he realised the classroom was empty and plop himself to sit on one of the dusty chairs.
He put down his backpack and pulled out a small laptop, putting it on a somewhat clean table and turning it on. He clicked his tongue when he realised the battery was half-way down, but couldn’t be bothered to try and find an electric socket to charge it.
Izuku connected a pair of earphones to the laptop, opening his notebook. The notebook turned glorified music book was filled to the brim with musical notations and various notes on the songs itself. He flipped to the latest page he was working on, booting up the music composing program in his laptop.
He sighed.
It was inconvenient, and very risky, to work on his songs while at school. But he promised his bandmates that he’ll finish the song by tomorrow, so they could get a move on the other parts of the music video they were making.
And, well. He promised himself he would never stop composing songs until he could make a song that could save his friends.
So he put on his earphones, and pushed the play button.