*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽*͓̽

“On a scale from one to ten, how weird would having a crush on you be?”

His words were so blunt. So obvious. I often questioned if I was meant to read them in the way I did.

I often question if they were truly directed at me.

His eyebrows were wrinkled, his expression awkward, his hair matted down with sweat, be it from the training or this tense moment- I still can’t tell.The moment remained tense, yet glum.

For the first time since we’d met, his eyes conformed from their iconic shape to a squint, sweat dripping from his eyelids and a cherry-red blush dusting over his cheeks and above the bridge of his nose.

I inhaled, cleared my throat, and raised my fingernails to the tip of my lips.

“...eight” 

He sighed and stood back. “I see”.

His face transformed back into its normal form-almost as though nothing happened.

He trotted off, his golden locks bouncing about, acting as a secondary action to his fast paced skipping.

Even though I was sure it was,in fact, a joke-(Men can’t like other men. That's not how it works-absolutely ridiculous. Impossible,even). His voice was so stern, so intact, so-for lack of better word-doggone serious.

And for someone with a personality such as his, this was very peculiar.

Yuga Aoyama is never serious.

I scratched my head and continued on with my day.

I decided that I would rule it as a joke, as was customary for the blonde.

Only of course, the fates were always against me.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When in doubt, I always ran.

I was afraid of facing the facts. The fact that Izuku Midoriya is currently the apple of my eye.

It wasn’t the fact that I was attracted to males that caused me to piquer une crise, It was the fact that I specifically fell for the hero Deku,who was very popular, brave, humble, and above all, the most attractive teen I had ever, in all of my sixteen years of life, had ever encountered.

So was my nervousness justified?Of course! Midoriya is the creme de la corn of teenage men in all of UA high school.

But even so, he made it very clear that we were a boundary.

One that could never be crossed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

As I made my way to the lunchroom, I resorted to an old stim I used to be teased about-grinding my teeth.

I did it when I was confused, thinking hard, or even sometimes when I was enjoying myself.

At this point in time, I was thinking hard about the upcoming tests.

And also maybe-possibly-perhaps-Aoyama.

Of course, I was thinking about what he did, not him.

“Ow! What is that cringe-worthy noise!?” 

I jumped and looked around, making eye contact with Mina Ashido. 

I squeaked.

“I-I’m sorry! That was me. Apologies” I exclaimed, smoothing out the wrinkles on my shirt.

“OH” Mina blinked obliviously, then proceeded to click her tongue. “It’s like, okay if you do it or whatever-but I cannot stand that noise” 

I scoffed. “I actually-for some reason-I like the noise of grinding teeth. Oddly therapeutic”. Mina chuckled. “That's fine. To  each his own” with that, our short interaction came to a close.

People would like to say that class-A was a classroom of friends, friends who look after eachother.

But sometimes, I feel as though they feel sour around me. Despite class-A being the center of attention for awhile, the student ‘Izuku Midoriya’ had taken the spotlight more than once.

I’m very sure no one actually, truly, thoroughly cares about me. That much.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was dark. Cold. Ominous.

A single seed had been planted after that unfortunate encounter, the moment two people had broken the unspoken truce.

On the inside, one needed to prepare.

On the outside, the other needed improvement.

We were certain that change must occur. If they cannot change themselves, let them be eliminated.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I yelled. Beads of sweat dripped down my face, a few drops halting and loitering on my pale face. I tried to calm myself down, trying to control my breathing. I swiped my head with my forearm  and held my sheets between my clammy fingers, holding on tightly with an iron grip. I sat up, catching my breath. Nightmares were a hard subject to deal with for me. Tonight’s one was no different. Mirio had told me that the events so far have been pressuring on my underdeveloped brain, but I doubted it- for some ungodly reason. 

 I quickly jumped from my bed, once it had been made clear that I was not going back to sleep anytime soon.

I realized my mistake, since my head began to spin and I was sent crumpling onto the ground, waiting for the black dots to leave. After the dots cleared up, I stood up and stretched. I shuffled to the bathroom, rubbing my eyes as I did so. 

I grabbed my toothbrush from the medicine cabinet and closed the cabinet door. I came in eye contact with my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and my skin was more pale than usual. My scars stood out on my skin, as well as the veins along my arms, hands, and fingers. I squirted toothpaste on my brush and proceeded to clean my teeth. I remained looking straight into my reflection's eyes, paying attention to every detail of them. They sparkled suddenly, and a thick tear slid down my cheek. I wonder why.

I gripped my shirt tightly with my free hand. I removed the toothbrush from my mouth and rinsed it off, then proceeded to spit the remaining paste into the running water. I noticed that blood came out as well, mixed with the minty-blue toothpaste. I sniffed and wiped my mouth. Must have made my gums bleed.

I put the toothbrush up and turned the sink’s knob around, turning it off. I put everything back up and left the room. My throat was noticeably dry, but I paid no mind to it. I changed into sweatpants and put a hoodie over my pajama shirt. I pulled socks over my feet and slipped on my running shoes. I then proceeded to leave the school building, my feet hitting the concrete sidewalk with a ‘schnapp’.

My shoes continued to make the noise as I started my morning jog. 

I have found that a simple cardiovascular exercise to start the day often provokes thought. Today, however, my mind seemed clogged and felt as though it were running on autopilot. There was a continuous buzzing in my ears. It was still early, so the crickets and the fireflies that had not yet hibernated for the coming winter. 

Alone and trying to awaken my tired brain, I brought up a famous thought for the past day.

Who exactly does Aoyama think he is?

I mean. The nerve of that guy. To even ask. To even think about it.

I do not like him. At all. I am obviously attracted to women, I figured this was obvious?! I mean-I had a crush on Ochaco Uraraka for the first couple weeks of school, until she approached me as a friend. I even had a small crush on Mei Hatsume from class 1-B for a short while.

Aoyama had always seemed a likely candidate for being one of our few homosexual students. And? What does one do when approached with that question? Maybe he was asking for a friend? Maybe-

Da-Bonk!

I fell backwards, blood dripping down from my nose. I looked up and stared at the metal pole that I had bumped into. It had frost on it, frost that glistened in the moonlight.

I stood up, wobbled, and regained my footing. I noticed the yellowish light that arose from the treetops. I must have gotten lost in thought while running. I sighed, my breath leaving my mouth in a cloud of condensed vapor. 

“Deku?!”

The voice sounded like it was from someone nearby, so I turned around.

Standing there was Aoyama, wearing a soft jacket and mittens. He had fluffy boots on, and was wearing soft socks. He wore a concerned expression. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his hand softly placing itself on the side of my head.

“Yes” I stated plainly, ripping his hand from my face with a large amount of force, then felt bad for it immediately afterwards. He cocked his head to the side. “You need to get cleaned up”

I coughed.

“I am aware” I wiped my face on my sleeve, but apparently the blood had long since dried, leaving hard chips of red dotted along the jacket’s material.

Aoyama reached for my hand and placed a few wet wipes in them. He then smiled broadly at me and trotted off.

I stood there, dumbfounded with the situation.

But I still stood up.

I ran.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I personally enjoyed jogging beside All might, despite the odd atmosphere I got from him now.

He used to be a literal god in my eyes, but after meeting him-all the controversy, all the enemies- I think it’s safe to say that I felt a bit uncomfortable around him.

He was just like the father I never had.

Still, I ran.

All Might’s voice lingered vaguely behind me, obviously he was taking it easy on me today.

Unusual, considering the bad luck I'd been having.

My lungs had suddenly constricted, so I wheezed, searching for the air that I had lost. I started coughing hard, my hands wavering about my face. My eyes were squeezed tight and I was trembling.

A lump was squeezed from my throat and I could feel it pass through my lips.

I could breath now, the barrier clogging my lungs was gone. I opened my eyes gradually, my head spinning and colorful specks clouding my vision.

I yelped at what I had seen. Blood was on the frosty ground, spreading out into a puddle and crimson drops dusting the side. 

“Midoriya!”

I heard the yell, but it was muffled. My ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton balls. I looked up and saw All Might looking over me with concern. 

“You need to see the nurse!” he exclaimed. He laid his hand on my back.

“I-I’ll go” I stated bluntly, staring at the puddle. I noticed an off color object buried in the blood.

I poked it with the tip of my right shoe. I turned it over and the object, although still bloody, made itself recognizable as a golden flower. Must have been there prior to the incident.

Odd that such a lovely flower would be blooming in winter.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well that certainly sounds bad”

I could hardly understand what I was hearing.

Midoriya had once again found himself in the emergency room.

The news had shaken me into my core.

I could hardly eat afterwards, my worry eating me up inside.

I laid my utensils down, staring solemnly at my cheese, which was now lukewarm.

“Well, that's very concerning”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I drifted back and forth between consciousness.

I remember this morning(that morning?How long was I even unconscious?) when I had alerted the nurse of my condition. I was rushed to the hospital, for surgery, or something. My lungs were filled with a mysterious growth, and if it did not get removed, I could die.

Something felt as though it were missing.

I don’t remember anything from yesterday. I only remember fragments.

I opened my eyes, but my vision was blurry.

Once it began to clear up, I noticed the white room surrounding me. I glanced over to a small brown table that was next to the bleach-white covers I was tucked into.

I felt a sting in my chest, so I lifted the blanket and glanced under it.

My chest was covered in bandages.

I ran my hand over them,although they were dirty and had a faded crimson interior, they were oddly comfortable. 

A door creaked open, and in stepped the nurse. She seemed concerned.

“What happened to me?” I asked vaguely, pointing at my chest. 

She nodded. “You had a very odd lung infection. We removed the specimen thankfully, although it was quite the tedious task”. 

I nodded, although I didn’t really understand.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is wrong. It can’t end like this.

Let it be that was destroyed, can be replaced.

Perhaps now it’ll be stronger.

Perhaps it will now be in full bloom.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We were training.

I had returned from the hospital after a week-long stay. Aizawa-sensei had still kept me from physical training for a couple more days.

It was very ominous.

I was healthy, I was fine.

And yet, my lungs almost failed.

Out of nowhere.

There were no preexisting health conditions that were lung-related that ran in my family.

“HEY NERD!”

I had just barely dodged Bakugo’s attack.

He hit the ground, then twirled around immediately and ran towards me again, his arms both teeming with smoke.

He hit me this time, pummeling me into the ground.

“Just because everyone else is taking it easy on you, does NOT mean I will too. Get up!” He kicked my side, flipping me over onto my back. “I know you can do better than this. Get up and show me everything you got!” he snarled, his teeth clenched.

I stood up.

He reeled again, preparing to hit me with full force.

I was just preparing an attack when a bright laser beam hit Bakugo’s side, sending him tunneling into a wall.

I gasped, searching for the attacker.

A tall boy with flowing blonde hair appeared.

I made eye contact with the boy, my green eyes dull compared to his sparkling indigo ones. 

He smirked at me, strolling towards me while his cape flowed steadily about him.

My legs developed a mind of their own, digging up the dirt in a frenzied attempt to get away. I jumped up, gained my footing and then proceeded to run with all my might.

I looked back just a moment, and noticed the pained expression on his face. He was gripping his stomach. I slowed down and caught my breath.

If I was to truly be a hero, I should be helping those in pain.

I sighed, my stomach now conforming back into its steady-up-and-down motion.

I strolled casually to the boy, who was on the ground, panting.

I knelt beside him.

“Sir” I said, digging up my deepest, most stern voice.“Are you alright?”

“Oui” he managed to get out. I glanced at him with concern. 

“Stand up” I rushed, grabbing his sides and pulling. Much to my surprise, he got up, and his back collided with my chest.

I wheezed, my arms tightening around his waist out of fear.

It was a natural reaction to shock.

It wasn’t, like, intentional or anything.

Even if his hips were slender and coarse and very tempting.

Even though his chest was buffed out like a rooster and stuck out magnificently in contrast to his small hips and thighs.

Even if his head of golden hair shone like several seams of pure gold, each strand waving softly about his skull. 

Even though he had the finest damn body in the whole planet.

My face blew up in a popping red color. You could barely see my freckles anymore.

My stomach churned, as though I was getting carsick, but it felt great.

The boy turned his head over his shoulder, and saw my face. His face slowly faded into a dull pink. His pale lips trembled.

I inhaled suddenly, as though I had been suffocating for hours up until this very moment. 

As though my lungs had been deprived of air for years.

My arms left his waist, my legs failing as my body tipped backwards. He seemed to have lost his footing as well, as he had collapsed onto the ground.

Dandelion fluff flew around us.The flowers in the patch waving about soothingly in the wind.

I sighed.

“I’m sorr-”

“No”

Silence.

We didn’t dare to look at eachother.

My hand lingered blindly, finally meeting his. Our fingers interlocked.

My face felt warm.

But I didn’t feel ill.

I felt more alive than I had in years.

The world had stopped spinning.

And for just a moment, everything froze.

"Midoriya”

I blinked. How did he know my name?

“I-I think-I think you are the epitome of all the world's beauty at its finest. You are the shining light of this planet’s core ”

I nodded hesitantly. 

“I don’t agree. But thank you”.

“Why not?”

“Why are we getting personal? We just met”

He froze.

Then, he laughed. 

My eyes drank up his happy expression, feasting like a starving, rabid wolf on every single god forbidden detail, savoring every moment of his joyful expression. Of his lively face.

“Deku! We’re friends”

I trembled.

“I-”

I leaned closer to his direct earshot.

“I don’t remember you” I mumbled.

My cowardice is unparalleled. 

He seemed shocked.

“Oh”

“I have to go”

He stood up and walked away, a sorrowful air about him.

As he trotted away, my throat released a groan of bitter despair.

My tongue had dried up.

My skin was now cold.

My mind was empty.

Things had unpaused.

But I couldn't see it, nor feel the brunt of its actions.

The world buzzed around me, but I wasn’t there.

I was 10,000 light years away, in the dark navy-blue sea of space. Even the roaring balls of fire known to these people as stars couldn’t touch me. I drifted through space, my mind slowly evaporating into the heavens.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aoyama couldn’t breathe. His sobs choked out in small portions, his throat tightened and his lungs constricted.

It was as though his intestines had disconnected and were now taking advantage of his organs, squeezing them like beans are in order to create soft brown paste.

It felt as though a clammy, heavy chain was wrapped about inside of him.

He could feel the fat tears streaking from his eyelids.

But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to feel.

He gripped his forehead,pinching the skin, trying to ground himself.

His face was unnaturally red.

His skull was blasting with searing pain, as though his brain was being branded on the very forefront. 

His mouth and tongue felt raw,but also felt like rigid, hot gold flakes were stuck onto the taste buds, stabbing the upper part of his mouth and entangling the uvula. His teeth felt like they were each individually lined with an apple skin, one that was digging painfully into his pale gums.

As though a slain beast’s blood was seeping from his sinuses into his throat, causing it to feel as uncomfortable as possible, and acting as the-cherry-on-top for the poor boy’s suffering. His eyes were stinging, lining the cornea’s with a hot pink color.

His breath came in gasps.

This was the equivalent of being caught in a cold dark chamber, a chain being brought down onto your crumpled heart, over and over again, splitting it open.

Why would you inflict such pain on me?

Why would you hurt me like this?

All you had to do was listen.

Nobody knows who you even are.

How would that make you feel?

Why are you such a burden?

Why are you so ignorant?

Why are you trying so hard?

The thoughts buzzed throughout his skull, his heart beating as fast as a race horse anticipating another win.

Suddenly, two hands pounded into his chest.

Two more fingers popped a freezing ice cube into his mouth, where it immediately stuck onto his tongue.

He felt his body be raised, two hands grasping his sweaty red ones.

“Wake up”

The words were spoken in a strict tone, but Aoyama didn’t want to listen. His brain was a lost connection, the fizzing bubbling over the top like a newly poured carbonated drink.

The hands once more pressed into his chest.

It helped his lungs release their tightness, giving him some relief.

But it was still painful.

The ice cube had shocked him some, but the brain was still heaving weight like an overweight hippopotamus.

Suddenly, a hand brushed over Aoyama’s hair softly.

Aoyama opened his eyes, looking up to several blurred figures surrounding him.

He was in someone’s arms, being held as though he were a fragile ornament.

His vision had not yet cleared, despite his eyes being wide opened.Flashes were searing his brain, blow after blow gradually growing more painful. His heart was beating hard, His head pounding rhythmically to the heart’s pumping.

He was lifted up, and then the figure holding him moved fast. Despite the radio static clogging Aoyama’s ears, He could hear distant taps of feet slapping the ground.

“It’s my fault! I did it! It’s my fault!” someone screeched loudly, between sobs.

Aoyama muttered something inaudible, his voice crackling like wood dissipating in a fireplace.

A warm presence engulfed him, coating him like a weighted blanket.

He gradually slipped out of consciousness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Mina Ashido’s eyes, things were okay.

Well, somewhat normal at least.

In a two day span, two students were sent to the nurse. 

Both were emergencies.

Ashido had considered the possibility of a disease spreading about, but ruled against it after reports of Aoyama’s hospitalization came back as an unfortunate aftermath to a bad panic attack.

Midoriya’s hospitalization was apparently due to a lung infection, or at least that’s what the school’s board of health said, to appease the worried parents.

The news had caught wind of the incidents, as though students from class-A were indestructible, god-like men and women and otherwise perfectly healthy beings.

As though an injured UA student was a shocking reality.

Ashido knew this was wrong.

Dark things had taken place within the UA walls this year, some of the most shocking, jaw-dropping incidents in UA history.

Ashido often wondered if this was true, or if they were able to cover up every other incident, and the minute they got comfortable, a group of terrorist villains appeared.

The league of villains were probably not even the first of their kind.

Ashido tapped her bed railings with her fingernails, closing her eyes.

Relaxation was a tough goal to achieve in this school.

She leapt off of her bed, immediately slipping into her rosy pink slippers.

She yawned, her arms raising high above her head.

She shuffled out, walking across the dorm rooms. She froze in front of Ochaco’s door. Her hand closed tightly as she raised it, allowing it to waver near the door for a minute.

Whenever she wanted to talk, she normally resorted to this; It wasn’t shameful.

When you are down in the dumps, you are encouraged to speak to loved ones or friends.

She wondered if Aoyama had anyone to rely on.

Suddenly, Ochaco’s door opened wide, the brunette stepping out of the doorframe, rubbing her eyes.

She yelped, staring directly into Ashido’s black and yellow eyes.

“Hi” She remarked awkwardly, stiffly poking Ashido’s shoulder.

“Oh” Ashido’s mouth took on an ‘o’ shape.

She glanced around before backing away.

“I was wondering if we could talk, but you seem busy”

Ochaco’s lips twitched.

“I’m not busy! I promise!” her arms raised up defensively, small specks of pink dusting her pale cheeks.

Ashido’s mouth conformed into a simple line and she nodded.

The two young girls sat on Ochaco’s bed, holding each other's hands.

“Are you alright?” Ochaco stared at Ashido with concern.

“I-do you think the previous classes have had incidents too? Are we just being representatives of power for entertainment?”

Ochaco stared at Ashido plainly.

“I don’t know”

“Do you think they sometimes lie about our conditions?”

“I s’pose they might”

“Do you think Deku and Aoyama will be okay?”

Ochaco pursed her lips. “Yes. I can confirm that Aoyama just had a panic attack. Nothing huge” Her head drifted on her left shoulder, the top of it pressing into the bottom of her head. Her eyelashes brushed calmly against her sleepy eyelids.

She seemed to think that things were okay.

And she was almost never wrong.

Ashido sighed, her hands slipping from Ochaco’s.

“Sorry. I was just-just had a lot on my mind”

Ochaco nodded, and with that Ashido stood up and left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was strolling through the men’s dorms, glancing at the pink and orange clouds, announcing that the sun was about to rise. The bright orange lined the carpet and the walls and was covering me from head to toe. My bare feet were marching softly through the carpet, my white pajama shirt with a dark blue hem was swerving back and forth, revealing the short blue plaid pants I was wearing. The shirt was too big for me, it was my mother’s when she was sixteen, my age.

I was always so small for my age.

Everytime that I put this shirt on, I can smell her. She distinctly smells of birthday candles and cold apple juice and rainy mornings and chocolate frosting-frosting that had escaped the stand mixer’s control and had splattered all over us-

Frosting that we rolled around in, laughing hard and embracing one another.

No matter how many times I had washed the shirt, the smell stayed.

No matter what fragrance you would wear, the smell would never fade.

I grabbed the collar with both my hands and raised it to my nose. It was nice. It was calming. 

I heard a door creak open, causing me to freeze in my tracks.

I heard brisk steps shuffling toward me.

I squinted, expecting Aizawa-sensei to show up to scold me.

Instead, a drowsy boy stood there.

He was the same blonde boy who had landed in the flower garden with me.

The boy I had put through so much pain.

I opened my mouth to speak, but only a squeak came out.

He stared at me, his indigo eyes seeming duller than before. 

He had bags under his eyes, reaching the top of his rosy-pink sleep-flushed cheeks.

I grinned.

He looked so soft.

In the lighting, His face and body looked as though they were covered in peach fuzz.

I couldn’t help myself.

The monarch butterflies in my stomach fluttered about, landing and flying again.

My hands grabbed his, I needed to know.

They were so smooth. So coarse.

As the butterflies made their way up into my ribcage, my breath hitched.

I felt so safe.

The urge to hug the boy came out of nowhere.

We embraced each other, but my body began to speak for me. I gripped his hand and led him back to his room.

I was laughing bubbly, before tipping myself over with the clumsiness of an elephant. My body hit his bedclothes, my limbs relaxing.

Aoyama stood there, a bit dumbfounded for a minute before grinning wildly, as though I were in his eyes what he was in mine.

He toppled over onto the bed, wrapping his arms around my warm waist, my shirt lifting up a bit.

I tucked my head into his shoulder, indulging in the heat emitting from his neck.

I nuzzled into it, getting comfortable.

His feet were rubbing against each other, the socks on them sliding off.

My hands made their way to his torso, wrapping like a boa constrictor in an effort to kill its prey.

His hands lingered about, before reaching under my shirt and getting tangled up in the warm cloth.

I chuckled quietly, my head raising. I stuffed my face into his soft, fuzzy cheeks.

They smelled of vanilla ice cream.

Although at first I was timid, I planted a peck on his cheek.

They tasted so sweet.

He laughed, his hair brushing against my face as he kissed my forehead.

My face lit up, my eyes brightening up. I chuckled softly.

My head was nagging me to stop.

I couldn’t.

But isn’t this wrong?

Maybe so. But For just a moment, let’s not give a crap.

My throat itches horribly, but I brush it aside.

The soft boy was planting pecks all along my face, and eventually, he planted a kiss on my neck. It made me shiver.

My eyelids feel heavy, so I shut them.

My arms wrapped around the boy’s neck. My eyes fluttered open and met his. He looked so excited.

I wonder how stupid my face looked.

I leaned forward.

He did too.

My lips met his.

His met mine.

Our hands entangled.

And for a moment, I felt as though I had always known him.

And I felt the need to always know him.

A sour feeling spread up and at the tips around my brain, but I ignored it.

My lungs felt heavy.

But I paid it no mind.

He was so pretty,

So pretty in fact, that it was painful.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apparently, at some point, I had fallen asleep in the protection of the boy’s arms.

Aoyama.

Aoyama’s arms.

How do I know his name?

But I brushed that aside as well.

I looked up and saw the blue sky through the boy’s curtains, which were waving about.

I rubbed my eyes.

That was my first kiss.

Your first kiss was from a dude?

Yep.

I clenched my teeth.

I felt so dirty.

But satisfied at the same time.

And joyful.

He was here. With me.

You're in love with a man.

Wrong.

I’m in love with Aoyama, idiot.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Iida was having a rather normal morning.

He was ensuring that all the students were up and ready for the day.

His hands rapped on Izuku Midoriya’s bedroom door.

Odd. Normally he’d at least be up at this time.

To most, this would count as an ungodly hour. But to Iida and Midoriya, it was the only hour that truly mattered.

He turned the doorknob and glanced into the room. He was gone. But even worse, his bed was a mess!

That wasn’t like Midoriya at all.

Iida was beginning to feel worried. He searched all the bedrooms, awakening many young men.

When he had reached Aoyama’s bedroom, he opened the door to see two boys in the bed, wrapped in each other's shirts and the covers. Iida felt dirty. He stepped out, a bright flush exploded onto his face.

He shut the door and ran.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Needless to say, Iida did wake us up. I attempted to untangle our clothes but my efforts were to no avail. 

Aoyama took the liberty of unknotting himself from my shirt. I stood up and yawned. My head felt awful.

I leaped to my feet but suddenly suffered a massive head rush.

I grabbed onto Aoyama’s bed frame, steadying myself. Aoyama’s arms wrapped around my waist, clinging to me tightly. I looked up at his face, the fruity pebble-color combination leaving my eyesight.  Aoyama grinned at me.

I looked down. The butterflies continued to swarm. I took an awkward step ahead. Aoyama released my waist, his feet crisscrossed, in a sort-of-charming way. I left the room and grabbed my training clothes. I headed for the restroom.

My gums bled again. 

I stared at the spit-toothpaste as it swirled about in the toilet.

I decided to spit in the toilet from the first incident since it would leave less evidence.

 I was flossing, when I managed to pick an oddly large object from in between my molars. I stood back and squinted at it. It was yellow.

It resembled a petal. I flushed it down.

Iida pounded on my door.

“MIDORIYA! YOU’VE FLUSHED THE TOILET TWICE. GET OUT! YOU’RE HOLDING UP THE LINE AND THEN WE’LL ALL BE LATE”

I jumped at his loud voice, but listened to him nevertheless. I left the room, my shoes clicking on the floor as I made my way to the classroom. I nearly tripped over Aizawa-sensei, who was buried in his sleeping bag, as usual. I stepped over him.

He was grinning up at me.

That was never good.

“I heard that you were in Yuga Aoyama’s bedroom last night?”

I blushed.

“We-we didn’t do anything like-really bad”

He squinted.

“Still. Students are restricted from taking residence in each other’s rooms without letting us know. We might think that you’re lost, or kidnapped”. He said sternly.

“Also, even though there are no cameras permitted in your rooms, we can still hear you through the cameras in the halls”

He squinted.

I was a suffering man.

Aizawa then looked away from me and welcomed the other students.

I found my seat and plopped into it. I glanced around the classroom, in search of anything interesting.

It had occurred to me that I had never noticed Aoyama in this classroom.

Odd.

As Aizawa-sensei’s words flew in and out of my ears like rolling waves, my pencil flew across the paper, taking as many notes as I could.

But my mind was elsewhere.

My mind was glued to the blonde-haired boy in all of his glory.

I dared to pause my notes to look for him.

He was sitting, casually, his hand tipped slightly under his chin.

He was grinning broadly.

I savored that moment, that smile, for as long as I could, lest it leave as fast as it had appeared.

 I soaked in what I could of his gorgeous features.

His other hand was tapping his desk impatiently. 

The butterflies continued to smarm.

The feelings crept up gradually, hoping to smite their prey with a mighty blow.

My pencil flew across the paper.

I was no artist in my eyes, but the picture I was drawing was beautiful in its own way. The lore behind it was what had drawn me to look back on it for years.

The image was of a large golden butterfly, black stripes and patterns stretching across its wings and body.

My hands were content.

My mind was not.

How do people tolerate sitting in the same room as an angel?

-------------------------------------------------------

If I had the choice to be sitting behind Deku, I would change my seat. No hay problema.

But, unfortunately, my view of Deku was across the room and a bit behind me. If I turned around to look at him, I might be accused of cheating, or not paying attention. But all I wanted to pay attention to was the short, green-haired boy.

Last night, I felt like I had been shaken awake.

 Like I had been pinned down and cold water was dunked onto my face,

Deku was amazing to me.

I cared for him in a way that was now possible for him to requite. 

I wanted to look at him.

It might sound creepy, but he was just so-so nice to look at.

My throat itched.

I had a cough for the last few days, but Aizawa told me just to drink water and rest.

It would be easier if it just-didn’t keep scaring me so much. 

Every day.

Little sprouts bloom from every open hole in my face and body. They grow out of my pores, mouth, ears, nose, fingernails, sometimes even my eyes.

I’ve lived like this for almost a year now.

I have a sneaking suspicion that Deku has something to do with it.

It started when I had first laid eyes on him.

The first few days were all blood and gore.

Then it evolved into all that and the green-tinted blooms.

I never cared to research it. 

Must have never crossed my mind.

After the bell rang, I pulled out my phone. I searched, “Why is my body dispersing flowers at a rapid rate?”

Much to my surprise, there actually were some articles on it-something about a disease called, “hanahaki”.

 I clicked on the first one That I saw.

“Hanahaki disease is an illness born from one-sided love. The side effects include coughing, nausea, regurgitating\coughing up blood, and in most cases, a heavy dispersion of a flower related to their lover. The infection can be surgically removed, but the feelings often leave with the flowers-”

I went back as soon as I had seen it.

This was very similar to what I had, but I should keep looking.

“Hanahaki disease is a slow, painful disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with the victim coughing up a few petals, but often grows in intensity and pain. If not treated, it can be fatal.”

I blinked.

I didn’t want to forget Deku.

If the disease is caused by unrequited love, what happens if we do love each other after the fact?

It seemed so obvious. If we could just, magically love each other, things'll be peachy?

I did not believe it. I could not.

But I needed to deal with it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Do I love Yuga Aoyama?

I don’t know.

Iida seemed frustrated today.

I approached him, my shoes louder than I’d like them to be.

He turned around swiftly, his hands grasping my shirt collar.

I squeaked.

He turned to face me.

“Deku” His glasses were glazed over with the reflection of the lights.

“Are you gay?”

I hesitated.

I was, but I wasn’t.

“I-” I stammered. “No. Yes? I don’t know. Is it possible to like both?...”

Iida tensed.

“No,” he said coldly.

He turned away from me, and thrust me far from his body, as if with confusion.

“Stop being a fool. You can’t like both, that’s-atrocious”

I smiled. “I guess- I don’t know then. I’ll figure it out”.

What.

What am I?

---------------------------------------------------------

It can be said that I’ve been asked all sorts of questions. But when young Midoriya approached me, I had not been surprised.

I’d just never been asked by a fledgling gay what our terms meant.

“Aizawa-sensei-with all due respect-”

“Can I like-Like both genders?”

“Gender?” I stared at him.

He lifted his eyebrow.

“Can’t tell you about something that doesn’t exist-” I mumbled under my breath.

I knew what he meant though, but failed to see why people had to apply gender to everything.

“I know what you mean. And yes, you can.” I yawned, looking the other direction in a very uninterested way.

“You can?! Iida said-Iida said that you can’t!”

“So you're basing your opinions on what someone else tells you? Sounds particularly weak of you, Izuku Midoriya”

“I once cared about other people,” Aizawa chuckled. “Then they said I was someone I wasn’t”

My mouth twisted its corners upward, forming my awkward smile.

“Imagine having a gender,” I said between clenched teeth.

Midoriya cocked his head to one side.

“But- your a boy?”

I snorted. “Picture this Midoriya. You wake up in a female’s body. It sucks, right? Cause you know that internally, you simply can’t be a girl, right?”

Midoriya nods. “I guess that makes sense”

I nodded. “Except in my case, I couldn’t conform, so I gave up”

He looked so confused.

“I’m obviously not a dude, right?”

He blinked.

“I never thought of it that way” 

I snorted.

“It confuses everyone.I have no gender, But I’d still say that I am gay. You can be anything you want to, as long as you set your mind to it. You like girls, you like girls. You like boys, f*ck it, you like boys. You hate everyone, h*ll, same.You like everybody, can’t relate, but go for it”

He looked so inspired. 

“So i’m not weird?!” He yelled it. 

I shuddered. I had remembered a time where I had felt the same.

I remembered a time where I’d wake up every morning and everything was still there. 

And then I’d be found on the ground, screaming and crying. I’d pound at the floor, bruising my hands and breaking my fingers.

I’d tear myself up, because it almost felt as though I wasn’t a real person.

I laid my hand on Midoriya’s head. 

“You are not weird, Izuku Midoriya. You just sort of, are”

He looked up at me in a weird way. 

I lifted my hand and shooed him off.

He skipped off, full of a sort of, grandiose energy that could not be described.

I sighed. I could not, for the life of me, understand him.

But I could help him fill the blanks, so everyone else could read him better.

(Short detour and procrastination method- For a distraction from reading this story and a quick and easy method for the lack of nb Aizawa stories,, click here!

----------------------------------------------------------

I was a bit confused. 

Why was being attracted to people so confusing?

And apparently, gender was just as confusing, if not near impossible to interpret.

I had paused, noticing that Aoyama was walking by.

I stared at him, but he must have not seen me. He was chatting with Mina.

I knew he couldn’t be wrapped around my finger 24\7,or even at all.

The guilt crept back to its perch. I pounded my chest, wheezing out a petal.  

All well, I guess.

My gut ached.

As my eyes blurred, I questioned why I still stayed. Why I still went through all this trouble just to end up hurting those around me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Due to the intense events of this school year, we will be holding a dance, it is for all classes”

Aizawa’s voice was bored-and perhaps a bit nervous.

But me, I was very nervous.

maybe, possibly, even on the brink of a breakdown.

Because as soon as the words came from Aizawa-sensei’s mouth I knew.

I knew that unlike many years before this, there was actually a chance I would be asked out to said party.

And I don’t know how I would handle that.

And I don’t know if I should.

Without internally discussing the conflict any longer, I continued on with my day.

After sparring(and\or Bakugo serving me swift kicks in the pants for over an hour)I made my way through the halls, staring at my notebook.

Another empty page.

I flipped it. Two empty pages.

I never went a day without making notes.

And yet, I couldn’t write a word. Everything was muddled and foggy, and my brain felt as though it were running on some engine it had borrowed. 

The fuel was anonymous, seeing as I had not eaten nor slept much at all.

I had wondered what kept people like me going.

Or if people like me were real at all.

Aizawa-sensei had already explained my attraction mishap, but that wasn’t all there was for me. 

I had found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my work recently, and the walls I had built around my mentality to further protect it from debbie-downers who would doubt me were crumbling. I think people can say whatever they want to me now, and maybe i’ll even take it seriously.Take it into consideration, much like a survey at the end of a hotel stay.

My brain was teeming with an overwhelming feeling of doubt and rage.

Rage at Katsuki, rage at All Might, rage at my mom, rage for villains, rage for even him,the boy who had done nothing but lift the pain off my chest.

Most of the pain, at least.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘I wanna be alone, alone with you, does that make sense?

I wanna steal your soul, and hide you in my treasure chest.

I don’t know what to do, to do with your kiss on my neck.

I don’t know what feels true, but this feels right so stay a sec.

Yeah, you feel right so stay a sec-’

The vinyl scratched as it was stopped suddenly.

My green bangs fluttered across my forehead as I turned onto my side under my blanket.

I felt so undeniably petty, zoning out while relating to sappy love songs.

I rubbed my fingers around the hem of the coarse quilt coating my mattress.

Then gripped them tight enough to strangle a quail. 

I coughed.

I’d say that me being a dramatic emo is an understatement, but at this moment it felt like it was the only accurate description.

I sat up slowly, my index finger curling a strand of my hair. 

My blanket was thrust aside in order to free my legs.

My feet then descended to the ground. They lifted my upper body, and my toes balanced it all out.

My head rolled about on my shoulders, feeling overweight. 

My eyelids felt like several tons were weighing them down, pulling them over my eyes like drapes.

I leaned against the wall, my skin screaming as it came in contact with a poster.

My fingers tapped rhythmically on the wall, only creating familiar sounds of candy unwrapping.

I made my way to the restroom like this, as though the world had been tipped over and was hanging off balance.

My hands eventually wrapped around the cold doorknob and thrusted it open.

I tip-toed to the shower and opened the curtains.

I undressed slowly, my shirt collar getting caught on my large head and ears.

Afterward, I lifted my right leg into the tub, followed by the other one.

I had once been told that bathing in cold water could help you lose calories, and god knows how much weight I carry on these legs every day.

I turned the knob to the farthest end of the blue stripe, shuddering as freezing water poured around me like the bottom of a turned over hourglass. My knees met the bottom of the tub with a small tapping noise.

I rubbed my knees and raised them to my chest.

My chin dropped onto my kneecaps.

As the loud water barricaded my ears from all the noises of the outside, my brain drifted into deep thought.

I closed my eyes.

All that I could see was the dead grass ahead of me. It looked as though I was in a valley or something of the sort. I relaxed my legs and let them slide to the grass.

My eyelids were no longer heavy, and floated over my pupils calmly, like the fluttering of a butterflies’ wings.

My lungs constricted. My ears went numb. My lips were cold and stiff.

My arms were heavy. My legs felt as though they were chained to the floor.

---------------------------------------

Normally, the antics of another barely fazed Aizawa, but in the case of a child way too late for his class, they had to intervene in order to carry on with the day. After it had become clear that everyone had already tried knocking on the door, Aizawa resorted to much more drastic measures. They grabbed the doorknob and tore it off its resting place. Afterward, they pushed the door lightly, and to no one’s surprise it swung open. 

In the bedroom(besides the All might shrines in every corner, everywhere) Posters were torn down, and clothes were strewn across the floor. There were signs of a struggle. Aizawa stepped into the bedroom and sighed. They did not have the time for this. They banged on the bathroom door. “Izuku Midoriya! You are about to be marked tardy!”

At that moment, the door swung open to reveal a short pale boy wearing a medium robe around his body. 

His eyes were sunken in and his lips were chapped. His ears were red and his cheeks rosy. “A-apologies, Aizawa-sensei!” He stuttered, bowing to his teacher.He then slammed the door. Ten minutes later, he opened the door again, but this time he was fully dressed.

He was gathering his hair in his hands nervously. He was trembling and his previous appearance had not been altered much. He quickly pulled his hair into a small ponytail and rushed past Aizawa, who looked off with a puzzled expression.

----------------------------------------------------------

Izuku Midoriya.

Looks amazing in a ponytail.

I mean, of course!why not?...he looks amazing overall…

but today is slightly different-his style looks rushed, smeared, like the work of a misused makeup brush, or a feisty baby refusing his soft food. It is making me uneasy. Even so, it makes my heart flutter all the same. This boy makes it impossible to hide inside a closet.

His wild hair sways side-to-side as he writes and shakes his head. I try to hide my urges, but I cannot.My face is red, my hair is curly. I mustn't ruin my own style admiring his own wild composure.So as the bell tolls, I grab his arm. We are skipping a class today.

----------------------------------------------------------

Two boys scurry down the halls quietly, holding each other close and trying not to laugh. They both said they were feeling uneasy to get out of sparring, which was believable given their quirks.

It was so easy.

But so wrong. So bad. So-

Irresistible.  

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boys stumbled over one another’s feet; making their way somewhere; or, maybe nowhere at all. Maybe beyond here, beyond the farthest reaches of our imagination. Maybe they were floating amongst the noir sky, among the stars, heading toward their burning rendezvous; maybe they were drifting down a cool creek,in a moisture-ridden forest; or it could be that they were simply on the carpet floor of a dining room, holding eachothers hands and whispering lullabies to themselves; maybe they were touching each others faces, wondering if it was all real. Maybe one was hiding in the other’s warm neck, inhaling the scent of versace perfume and the strong scent of strawberry shampoo in their golden locks; maybe their hands were intertwined-perhaps their lips even met, colliding with one another-a strong contrast between the one’s silky smooth ones against the other’s chapped, dry red-tinted lips, teeming with the obvious signs of neglect;

Maybe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Izuku Midoriya was a lot of things.

Being in love was one of them.

And even so, his life carried on around him-but not his mind-his mind was paused in one place-paused in Yuga Aoyama’s sweet embrace.

Oh, how he wished he wasn’t so in love.

 

 

“Midoriya”

His eyes went up faster than the reproduction of bunnies.

“Yes?” Deku said, absent-mindedly.

Iida stood over him, a worried expression on his face.

“Are you sick? Your face is-very red” he asked.

Deku shivered and coughed.

Petals were still there, somehow.

“I’m sick-reaaaal sick” Deku chuckled.

Iida felt his forehead. “Are you?”

“Iida- I think I have a bad case of that-boy-is-fine-as-h*ll-itis”

Iida backed off.

“Whom is?”

“Oh-someone. A very special someone”

His eyes were glazed over, and he seemed to be in another world.

“What-” Iida’s face was one of pure confusion. 

“IS that WhY-”

“Deku-Are you dating Yuga?” Iida’s brotherly instincts kicked in.

Midoriya shuddered. He never considered the thought of them dating.

“How would I know? Look...I’m not very sure myself. I’m confused, but I'm kind of happy I don’t understand it, y’know?”

Iida seemed satisfied with the answer, mumbling incoherent words.

“I won’t judge, you know this right?” Iida said quietly.

“Iida”

“I mean, not my cup of tea, but you get it”

“Iida...I think you were wrong”

“About?” He responds, absent-mindedly. “About me only being able to like one gender. I know it makes no sense, but I like both, I think. I think I may be Bisexual…”

Iida stiffened. “...But-”

“Look-I don’t know what’s wrong with me” Deku’s eyes were shining a a tear fell down. “I make no sense. I’m a mess-I’m weak-I’m-”

“Where’d this come fro-”

“I’m worthless-I-”Deku suddenly inhaled very sharply, making a loud noise.

“I’m confused!I’m wrong!I-”

“Stop it,” Iida yelled. Deku shut up.

“I don’t know why you are acting like this. It is ridiculous” He sighed. “You can’t change someone’s mind by guilt-tripping them”

Deku sniffed. “I know” he whimpered.

“Then why’d you do it?”