Work Text:
Midoriya Izuku was a good person. Hitoshi knew this. They had been friends for several months now, ever since the sports festival. Hitoshi ate lunch with Midoriya and his friends. He got invited to after-school training with them. He'd even go places outside of school, sometimes with all of them but also sometimes just with Midoriya.
Today was one of the 'just him and Midoriya' days. The two of them were at a park, taking a walk after having gone to a movie. It was nice to be in the sun, even if it was setting.
"You really don't have to always pay for your ticket," Midoriya was saying. "I'm always inviting you places but you never let me pay. Next time, please—"
Without meaning to, Hitoshi flinched. Midoriya stoppped speaking.
"Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?"
"Everytime I say that word, you recoil. Every time I say please—"
Hitoshi controlled his response better this time, but could not stop it. "It's nothing," he said.
"It's clearly not," Midoriya said. "You hate that word… Who said please so much to make you hate it?"
Hitoshi looked to the side, fingers digging into his forearms. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but the words would not pass his lips.
Hitoshi screwed his eyes shut and tried to breath but the fresh air outside him refused to trade placed with the rotten air in his lungs and the words nestled within.
"You don't have to—"
Hitoshi shoved the words out, cutting Midoriya off. "I did," he said. "I did."
The words tasted sharp and metallic, and there was something about speaking that made it feel more real and solid than before, when his pain lived only inside him. He felt vulnerable, as if by speaking he had given Midoriya the ability to see him through everything.
"There's a reason I don't live with my par—my birth parents," Hitoshi said, eyes still closed. "My quirk showed up a few weeks after my fourth birthday. It's the worst parts of both of theirs, so my mom couldn't stand it. Or me. I don't know how my dad felt about it; he died a week later on his way to pick me up from preschool. My mom blamed me for it and she'd say… things about how it was my fault and how she wished she could get rid of me and then the hurt stopped just being verbal and no matter how hard I asked—how hard I begged—she wouldn't—" Hitoshi stopped. Midoriya didn't want to hear all that.
"Oh," Midoriya said. Hitoshi braced for harshness, for a reminder that he deserved it. Instead, what Midoriya said was "I'm sorry. That's awful."
Hitoshi opened his eyes and stared. "It's not your fault," he said.
"No," Midoriya agreed. "But I still feel bad it happened. No one deserves to be hated or hurt, especially not someone as wonderful as you."
Hitoshi hadn't been prone to tears since the age of ten, but he could still recognize the pressure building behind his eyes.
Midoriya opened his arms enough to make it clear what he was offering, but not so much that Hitoshi felt any sort of pressure from it.
Hitoshi collapsed into his friend's arms.
He was good at hugs, Hitoshi noticed. He was very muscular, which added a stability to it all.
Vaguely, he realized he must be getting snot and tears all over Midoriya's shirt, but Midoriya didn't seem to care so Hitoshi couldn't bring himself to.
"Things are better now… right?" Midoriya said, gently patting Hitoshi's back. "With Aizawa-sensei and Yamada-sensei? If they're not, I…"
Hitoshi pulled back. "They're great," he promised. "Everything is a lot better now. And…" he hesitated for a moment. "And it's not just them that's better. I've got some pretty cool friends, too."
Midoriya beamed at him.
Written by a human in Ellipsus.