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Hajime Hinata was a normal person, once, and he hated it.
He had a daily routine: wake up, stare at his ceiling for 15 minutes, then drag himself out of bed just in time to brush his teeth next to his twin brother in the bathroom. Then he'd make his lunch, barely remember to grab something for breakfast, then head to school where he'd spend the next 8 hours in the same 6 classrooms, then go home and stare at his textbooks for another 6 hours. All whilst envy and bitterness swirrled in his guts and bubbled up his throat to choke him.
Rinse and repeat. Every fucking day.
It's probably a sign of something when the only parts of your day that aren't mind numbingly boring are when you're hanging out with a girl that could very well be your best friend if you weren't so goddamn envious. Another sign could be having a twin brother and barely interacting with him because you can barely keep the jealousy out of your voice every time you speak, but alas. He didn't really care about himself back then. He isn't sure he cares about himself now.
He never really focused on the present, always wished for something more. He could never quite put a finger on what 'more' meant, though. He had a loving mother, a successful father, a brother who probably loved him and great friends if he chose to let them in. What more did he need?
He pushed all of that away, and for what? For something to swoop into his life, give him that elusive 'more' he'd been betting on, and then—.
And then what? All the hate he had for himself would just dissappear? Like that? He was stupid to believe that.
He misses being naieve, though. He misses the days where he'd pray to whatever higher power there is for a chance to be something more than he was. He misses the crushing disappointment when he realized that the invitation to Hopes Peak only applied to his brother, he misses the days where he was drowning in work and studying for a spot in the Reserve Course, he misses the small spark of hope when he got his acceptance letter.
He misses hoping all of his pain would be erased if he had just one thing, whatever that thing might be.
He misses it all because he has it all, now. He isn't a worthless nobody anymore, no matter what Komaeda says. Hell, he was given a key to Hopes Peak, an honor only the bravest of Japan are awarded!
Well. Hajime Hinata didn't recieve the key, of course. Spider-Man did, but it's in Hajime's bedroom all the same.
It was supposed to be different, though. When he got bit by that spider—whilst arguing with Komaeda, of all people—he thought it was a slight break from the unrelenting monotony that was his life, gave him some reason to struggle for a couple of days.
Then, obviously, he got 'sick'. As in, he got stuck to his ceiling for 2 days as his DNA mutated. Then he had powers he didn't know how to handle and a skin tight suit that was too big for the life of a 15 year old boy. He finally got the 'more' he was looking for, and he didn't know how to handle it.
Now he was here. On a rooftop at midnight, looking out at the city nights below.
He leaps with the knowlege that this feeling—the longing, he means—was supposed to go away. He was supposed to become someone, and then he'd be okay.
He isn't okay. He traded one feeling—one prison—for another. It's like he went to the store—with God as the cashier, mabye—returned the envy and the bitterness, and forgot to get his money back. He just left the store empty handed like a dumbass.
There was supposed to be something there, inside him. But he's just as distant and hidden from Izuru and Chiaki as he always was, but now instead of his own envy in the way it's this damning secret that might get them killed. Might get him killed.
He's tearing himself between two lives, where hes simultaneously a 'useless Reserve Course who will never amount to nothing' and 'the brightest hope Japan has to offer' (both courtesy of Komaeda. What a guy.)
He whips a web to the next building, adds more momentum to his trajectory. Talent is a heavy burden to bear, he thinks. Or mabye it isn't, and it's just him that can't handle the pressure.
Some guy he is. He couldn't handle being nobody, and now he can't handle being somebody. He hated himself back then. He thinks he envies that version of himself now.
Another web attached to another building. His problems were so small, in hindsight. He'd take the endless boredom and very probable depression over flinging himself off of buildings every night. At least he didn't have an entire country relying on him to keep them safe.
He could die doing this. In a way, he kind of already has. As corny as it sounds, the old him died the second he put this mask on. He doesn't really know who—or what—took his place just yet.
He lands on a building to take a break. He literally has no time to be bored anymore. All his classes are easy—on account of the arachnid dna inside him enhancing everything about him, including his intelligence—but school also isn't the only thing in his life anymore.
He has this fucking suit.
He's aware that he's being a little dramatic tonight. Something must've bothered him during school, because in actuality he wouldn't hang up the suit. He misses the quiet days, sure, but Tokyo needs him, and that feels good.
A hard shiver goes down his spine. Speak of the damn devil.
He leaps off the building, heading back towards Hopes Peak. The melodrama can wait; the Ultimate Despair is currently terrorizing the streets of Japan again, and the country needs it's brightest hope.