Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Atsuhiro Sako ღ Mr Compress

[A/N]: I'm sorry this took so long! This is a female reader.

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Upon the desk lay flowers pressed and kept, accessories to the letters from which you couldn't escape. Surrendering them to earth or flame had been an endeavour of herculean proportion, and each time, your heart had wavered. How could such things be destined for destruction? In them, were written verses so impassioned by romance, that all who read them would surely swoon. And each flower had a meaning, for he understood their language like a scholar understands his discipline. Heliotrope was a declaration of eternal love and devotion, whilst a Red Camellia stood for love and passion. He gave you a Yarrow for lasting love, and a Honeysuckle for your bond. But, the final flower...you loathed to dwell on its meaning.

A Purple Hyacinth. It conveyed an apology, a mind fraught with regret...it asked for forgiveness, but how could you forgive a man of such iniquity? His reign over your heart had been plagued by deceit. But you yourself had been plagued by a graver poison, an ailment most foul, though the layman might stoop to call it love. It was love, but it was also pain and sorrow. Such desperate pain and sorrow.

Your tear-clouded gaze fell forthwith upon a letter.

My darling, your beauty could never be dulled by moonlight, and is only made more desirable by daylight. It yields to no force, natural or otherwise. It remains, and will forever. I will never tire of looking upon it, though for this, I admit I may be admonished. It is such a worthy distraction, but in my field, distractions are rarely tolerated. Know that I apologise with a sincerity that cannot be measured.

- A.S

He wrote with the grace and eloquence of a thousand poets, and at every word, you wept. You couldn't linger on them, although you wished to, or love's splendid doctrine would burden you with hope. But there was no hope, neither of reunion nor of replication with another. You were bound, loyal only to the memories of your lost love. He wasn't dead, but simply...gone. He walked out of your life so easily, as though the plot had, for aye, been beyond a hatchling. You understood nothing. You still felt so lost. Why couldn't love be straightforward? The despair, the dependency...

You clung to those letters, and the heartache they incurred.

Your lips seem a most desirable perch, and I would rest there for eternity, if you allowed.

- A.S

Beside that letter, decorated with the splashes of manifest sorrow, lay another, written by your hand. In the advent of your courtship, you had exchanged many, though of a much merrier tone. This one...he had never received it, for you had never sent it. By the hour of its conception, he was long gone.

I wanted to believe in you. But I was scared. I was so scared! What would they have done to you, if I was captured? How else had you deceived me? Had anything been true, or had I merely been victim to the folly of romance, of an ideal that could never touch reality? Why had you kept from me everything of importance? Why had you hidden your truth? I blame you, wholeheartedly, for my pain. But it was so hard not to apologise, when I'm sorry for everything. The day I lost you, I lost my world...I lost the part of me that made me whole.

- (Y/n)

His was a cowardly departure, unequivocally driven by fear - he had always taken such careful steps to ensure that home and work remained separate, never intertwining. But when all was revealed, he feared retribution, feared the consequence of his own duplicity. So rather than facing you, he fled. He understood the cravenness of the act, but it wasn't something he could help. Not when you finally knew the real him. His most authentic self, although a source of pride, could never be loved. You weren't of equal conviction. You had no dormant streak of villainy. You were so pure of heart, and so gentle of practice. You couldn't be tied to a liesmith, or force-fed a dogma of drivel. Atsuhiro had some morals, even if you were the only beneficiary. He couldn't have predicated your descent into this melancholy longing. Or, perhaps he hadn't wished to consider it. Had the thought chased away the mistress of somnolence, he never would've have been able to stave off his return.

But oh, he wished to return to you, to relive every shiver of romance...to not feel quite so alone. He couldn't, of course. Not given current circumstances, and with the near-decimation of an entire populace.

Deika City played host to his body, but his heart had never left yours. He missed everything - the eyes that devoted themselves to him, that giddy, love-struck smile when he first called your name, and the night you had thanked him for never forgetting it. He heard your name in every love song, and your voice on the wind. He saw your face on every woman, and on every lover, he saw the happiness that he had sacrificed.

May I compare thee to a Dahlia in full bloom? I assume you are familiar with this flower, as a perfect reflection of your grace and strength. Of the latter, that required to grant me access to your most genuine self...it is incomparable. You are incomparable. You are beautiful, and so unequivocally you. I will forever be thankful that you chose to share with me such delicate insight. I swell with pride at the thought of you, and I pray that one day, your mind will allow you that same feeling. You are more than deserving of pride, and of love for yourself. Until then, I promise to love and to cherish you, as if with the hearts of a thousand men.

- A.S

If a single hope, or a dream, could ever reach the stars, then the spirits of love would hasten to reconcile your union. But you were closed to astral influence, and knew nothing of prayers. His alone were inadequate. And although you beheld the same sky, although you gazed at the same heavens...you never found your missing pieces. The stars offered nothing but a torturous truth: that you would never find each other, no matter the breadth of your search.

Oh, curse the wretchedness of love!

[Word Count: 1063]