Dear Stranger (MHA Oneshot: Angst)

Dear Stranger

Shinsou Hitoshi wasn't stupid. At least that's what he'd told himself all the time. Enough times he eventually believed. No, he was a logical and rational person.

That's why he started going to the kind-of-abandoned park and sit on the swings to rethink his life. No need for therapists, those were fakes anyways.

No, he simply went there when it was past the kid's bedtime in the orphanage he lived, to think. Everyday. He didn't do anything. Just sat there, swinging slowly with his feet still planted on the ground, and he lost himself in thought.

That's why he didn't notice the first time he appeared. Shinsou was so deeply lost in thought he hadn't heard nor seen the small shape of a person- no, a teenage boy, like him- stroll casually towards him and sat on the swing next to him.

He was startled, to say the least, but made no move. He looked at the boy, how that black and blue hoodie kind of hung from his small form. He sat slumped on the swing just like Shinsou did.

His hood was covering his head, but he could see small green patches of hair someitmes peeking out. And his hands were in his pockets.

They always were, now that he thinks back to it.

He left it at that, deciding staring was rude and went back to lightly swinging.

It was silent. The boy didn't speak, he never did. But he did swing like Shinsou did, so maybe he came here for the same reason as him.

*

Over time this became a common occurrence. He decided to name the boy Stranger.

Because he was, wasn't he?

Shinsou went out to the swings whenever he had the chance. Almost everyday. Except Stranger was always there when Shinsou arrived. Even when he came out later than usual.

They didn't speak, they never did.

It was like an unspoken agreement. They never spoke, or interacted, just sat at the same set of swings.

Two lost boys.

Sometimes shit went down in his orphanage and he couldn't go to the swings for a day or two. He'd always been scared, not that he'd admit, that the Stranger wouldn't be there when he went back. That maybe he'd finally lost interest and left.

But that never happened.

He was always there. Always.

Waiting.

Just waiting, softly swinging.

*

Eventually as time progressed, and Shinsou was in his last year of middle school, ready to go to high school, he grew more fond of Stranger.

Even if he couldn't see him as often as before, he was always excited whenever he could meet him. Their comfortable silence was the best part of his day everytime.

He felt as if he wasn't alone, in a way. Maybe someone who understood him.

Sometimes he worried though. That maybe someday Stranger would stop showing up. That he wouldn't be there anymore, and Shinsou didn't even know his name.

Never to meet again. And that... that scared him. He didn't want to stop meeting Stranger, as odd as that was.

I should have asked. He now thinks often. Too often.

*

It'd been just like any other day. He swung with Stranger, like any other day.

How was he to know that day would be the last one?

The last time he'd see Stranger?

Well, he couldn't have. It was just like any other day for him.

*

The next day when he went was walking toward the swings and saw the absence of the blue and black hoodie, he panicked.

Well, not exactly panicked, but kind of got scared. His heart pumped in his chest, even with the reassurances that he told himself. Because Stranger was never late. In all the months he'd known him, he'd never been late.

Stranger was fine, just late.

He too had a life.

He was just late.

But he still speed walked over to the swings, but stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the paper.

The paper that was laying on Stranger's seat.

He had taken a deep breath, back then, and he'd taken the letter, somehow knowing it was meant for him.

With shaky hands and feet, a shaky heart and mind, he'd sat down.

And he'd read the letter, pretending that the drops of water falling on the paper weren't from him, no, it was just raining.

That the disappointment and anguish he felt wasn't real. After all, he didn't know his friend, as he was told in the letter.

But that was alright.

On a cold, lonely night, swaying on a swing, he'd let himself cry, mourning for a stranger he never knew yet did at the same time.

Someone he'd never known yet did at the same time.

He let himself cry that night, sobs lingering in the air and shaking shoulders. Uncertain as to why he was crying for someone he didn't know, but it made sense, in a way. For him it did.

He was, just like all those months before this, alone again.

*

Dear Purple Guy,

My name is Izuku Midoriya. It's nice to meet you. Well, more like you're meeting me. I'll never get the chance.

I'd like to say thank you, and that I am sorry.

Thank you... Just... thank you. For being here.

I'm sorry I'm leaving. I'm pretty sure I won't come back. I'm broken beyond repair. But that's okay. I've been broken for a long time

At least I'd like you to know that, throughout these months, you helped me. Just by staying with me, truly, you did.

But I cant hold myself together any longer. Today was the last time. I want to escape the pain. I'm quirkless, you see, so I'm pretty sure you know the way us quirkless people are treated. I'ts nobody's fault, it's just the way society is. i do hope someone fixes it though. Nobody deserves to be beaten down and suffer for something that's simply out of their control.

Anyways, I'm sorry for leaving you, my friend. I hope you'll make good friends someday though. And don't listen to what others say, I'm certain you'll make a great hero :)

i have great observation skills. people say it's creepy. it probably is. i don't really care anymore.

don't blame yourself, im sure you will, but please dont. just know that im thankful :)

perhaps in another life we could have been great friends, im sure. now live the best life you can, try to be happy.

*

Shinsou searched the name on the internet that night, and cried some more when he did find him.

Quirkless Boy Jumps From Building - An Unfortunate Story. The title said.

He cried some more for the friend he never got to meet, but did at the same time.