Work Text:
The whole time you’ve known him, you’d never describe Tomura as someone who really complains. He’ll frustratedly talk about game levels that he’s stuck on or how hot it is, any little thing that doesn’t really matter, but if something is really, genuinely bothering him, he keeps it to himself.
It’s really hard for him to talk about the things that bother him, especially if the kind of help he needs is something he’d have to talk to a stranger about. You understand that he’s had a rough time with professionals, so you’ve never pushed him on it.
You were getting started on breakfast when he says he wants to talk to you sometime about something important. “It doesn’t have to be now, or even today, but just…. Sometime. Is that okay?” He’s clearly very nervous bringing it up, and you can tell it’s important to him. He doesn’t look at you when he says it, but that’s not unusual for him.
It ends up being almost a week later when Tomura approaches you again to finally sit down and talk. He fidgets with his phone, likely with notes of what he wants to say. He takes a deep breath before he starts.
“It’s not easy to talk about, but I don’t want to be in pain anymore… I just don’t know how not to be…”
You sit quietly, just listening to him talk for the longest time. He’s done a lot of reading and tried to figure out what’s been happening to his skin his whole life on his own but he just can’t do it. He’s tried soothing creams, numbing creams, anti-inflammatory gels, everything, anything, but they just make it hurt more or make it hurt differently. He’s tired. Tired of waking up in the middle of the night unable to stop scratching. He tried wearing gloves to bed, he’s tried trimming his fingernails super short, he’s tried anything he could think of. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t causing open scratches all over his body all the time.
“It’s hard to take care of a body that burns and bleeds when you’re just trying to clean and care for it.” Tomura says, kneading the bottom hem of his hoodie with his hands.
There are the beginnings of tears welling in his eyes as he’s clearly frustrated and embarrassed at not being able to solve it on his own.
Eventually he gets quiet, and lays back. He takes a breath, before continuing. “I don’t even know if it’s a real itch at this point. I’ve thought about it being some kind of nervous tic, or compulsive behavior, maybe a mix of a few things, I’m just….”
The tears roll down the side of his face, but he wipes them on his hoodie sleeve.
“… I don’t want everything to hurt anymore.”
You ask if you can give him a hug, and he says yes. He sits up so you can wrap you arms around him for a moment. That seems to help soothe him, if only a bit.
It’s definitely a long road ahead, but you tell him that you can help advocate for him and be there to support him if he wants to find someone to talk to about these kinds of problems. He looks nervous at that, but you assure him that you can start as small as he needs to. He visibly relaxes, laying back down. He looks up at you, and pats for you to lie down next to him.
You lie back with him, just sitting there in silence for a little while. You know it’s not a lot, but just having you in his corner seems to make his whole disposition a little more hopeful.