章 11: What's This?
Izuku watched Kacchan leave the room with his mother.
Mitsuki-san had hugged him in a vice-grip and scolded him severely for trying to take a permanent solution to his problems. He could sense her affection bleeding through her words. It was a very strange feeling. Although her words were harsh, she had been genuinely concerned for him. If he teared up a little during her scolding, it was because she was too harsh, that's all.
Izuku never realized anyone in this world still cared for him, and her concern lit a warm fire within him. However, he couldn't quite bring himself to regret anything.
He could feel Kacchan's longing to stay with him, but he couldn't in good conscience ask him to stay. It wouldn't look good on his record. As far as he knew, Kacchan had a perfect attendance record. He'd never missed a day, even if he was sick.
That was how much being a Hero meant to Kacchan. Honestly. Despite Kacchan's success at being a 'bad boy', somehow their peers never noticed that he attended every lesson without fail. Izuku smiled slightly. It was the little things that made Kacchan so endearing to him.
He wouldn't allow himself of all people to mar the spotless record that Kacchan had successfully built. He wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. No matter how much he wanted Kacchan to stay, it didn't hold a candle in the face of Kacchan's future. His wants and desires don't matter in the long run.
His sole purpose in life was to ensure that Kacchan would be happy in the future.
The lingering hug Kacchan gave left him tingly inside. He felt giddy. Kacchan's sudden kindness left him breathless. It felt good. Really, really good.
The amount of worry and concern Kacchan was a layer of comfort on his skin. Izuku rubbed a hand up his arm, almost able to feel it physically. It made him shiver in a good way. He felt light and floaty. The difference in emotions Kacchan felt for him was very addicting.
He just hopes it lasts.
Izuku pressed a hand to his pounding heart. The sharp stab of pain from his wrist when he moved his hand reassured him that this wasn't a dream. He wasn't trapped in whatever dreamscape he had been in before. He buried his face in the pillow, smiling deliriously.
He thought about how gently Kacchan had treated him, feeling the rush of endorphins. He basked in Kacchan's feelings before slowly descending from his high as Kacchan widened the distance between them, until he could no longer feel anything but his own emotions.
He hesitated as he felt nothing else. Izuku brushed a gentle thumb over his wrist, feeling unsatisfied by the slight pain. He pressed down harder on his stitches, telling himself this wasn't a dream. Kacchan had changed, right? He wouldn't just go back to hating him once he was over his shock, would he?
Izuku teared up at the thought.
He sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut, willing the thought away. He would just go with the flow. Whatever Kacchan wanted, Izuku would be happy to give him. It didn't seem like he still hated him at this moment, so Izuku would take whatever he could get, until Kacchan hated him again. Then, he would leave quietly.
Izuku suddenly gasped as a thought hit him, jerking up to a sitting position on the bed, dislodging the needle in the crook of his elbow, ripping the tape off and splattering blood on the floor.
Oh my god, he thought, I threw away all the pictures of Kacchan I have!
Izuku felt like slapping himself. He'd hardened his heart and threw them all away in the event that the police or whoever searched his home and found his many pictures of Kacchan and took that as evidence of his cause of suicide.
He panicked further, thinking about the explanation letter that was left on the table before calming down and feeling sheepish.
In any case, he hadn't died yet, and the police couldn't just go through his things without a search warrant.
He could just get more pictures of Kacchan. Perhaps this time, he would be next to him.
Izuku pulled the tube up from the floor, hooking the tube to the stand holding the blood bag in a way that stopped more blood from leaving out before leaving to inform the nurse about what had happened, not wanting the nurse to hurry here from the call button only to leave again after she knew what happened.
The green-haired teen wandered down the hallway, not encountering a single nurse. He frowned, before deciding to head up a floor in hopes of finding a nurse.
As he passed multiple doors, his frown deepened.
He was feeling…strange.
He didn't know quite how to describe it. It almost felt like how he felt around Kacchan, but it was muted. Dull. It felt foggy. Sometimes he felt sharper emotions from certain doors.
The gears started turning in his head. It almost seemed like he was experiencing – he gasped as a heavy load of depression and loneliness slammed into him, causing him to stagger.
Izuku struggled to his feet. These emotions were strong, but they were nothing like how he felt when around Kacchan. This almost felt more like an intrusion. With Kacchan, it almost felt like he was experiencing the emotions himself. They were a part of him.
These emotions, however, he could clearly differentiate. He would never think that these emotions had stemmed from him. It felt detached, but at the same time it was present.
Izuku glanced at the nameplate on the door. Toshinori Yagi.
The emotions that the other was feeling were quite intense, especially if he compared it to the others he had felt on the way. Izuku almost instinctively wanted to deny what was happening, but something deep down whispered to him to go in.
He hesitated for some time outside the door, not sure if he should intrude or not. It wasn't exactly polite. He didn't know the other person, after all.
Something clicked in his mind. He was sure of it now. He was experiencing Empathy, almost like how he had imagined his ancestors before Quirks had become commonplace.
Izuku was confused. This had never happened before. What triggered the change?
He frowned, determined. In any case, he couldn't just ignore the other now that he was aware of their pain.
He knocked on the door.
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