MHA: Harbinger of Fear - Male Reader x Midnight

Part 43

1:28 AM

The time was displayed on a dimmed clock near the bed. Y/N read it with tired eyes and his muscles protesting.

He sat at the foot of the bed, bringing Nemuri out of a light sleep. He was still and draped by the crescent moon's light.

The first thing to gain her attention was his costume. The second was the warmth at her feet. Both brought her close to see the conflict and internal struggle expressed in his crimson eyes.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her voice weak as she fought off sleep.

"I only ever cried twice in my life." He murmured, making sleep an afterthought. "Once when I first came to Japan and the last is when I thought my mom had died and I saw you and Sam..."

Nemuri pushed aside the covers and their blanket to meet him eye-to-eye. Cobalt blue met blood-red, reflecting the dark purple in her hair or his second skin.

"I realized that I could never be normal. I couldn't attend school with other kids and I had this—weight over my shoulders. Then... I woke up after my fight with All for One and I saw you and Sam. I thought that was it for us."

He clenched his fist, crinkling the material of his gloves while a faint, cloudy shimmer crossed his knuckle guards.

"I'm trying to be two different people." He realized with a whisper. "I want to be like Samuel, but he was a distant and bitter man. And that's the last thing I want happening to me."

His taught muscles and white-knuckle grip began to easy when Nemuri laid her hand over his, offering small and comforting rubs.

"Mom always told me that... I didn't owe this world anything. And that I could be whatever I wanted so long as it made me happy. At the time I couldn't fully—grasp what she was getting at. But now I know."

When his fist opened up, he caressed her hand, wrapping it in a gentle and unnatural warmth. While in the reflection of her eyes, he saw Hit.

"After I dealt with that villain in Tokyo..." His voice became impossibly soft. It was a tone belonging to the deepest depths; his true self after peeling away a lifetime of callous and stoicism.

"I remember." She whispered, wrapping an arm around his and holding it close.

"I came home to see you and the girls... But you—you were scared."

She couldn't deny it and she couldn't bring herself to lie after realizing his rare bout of vulnerability. However, the emotion in her throat stole any chance of words coming through. So she nodded.

"What if that happens again?" His eyes dimmed ever so slightly but the heat rolling off his body didn't waver.

"It won't." She told him.

"How can you be so sure?" He asked. "Whatever happens between me and Shigaraki... what will happen afterward?"

As she pondered the question over, his eyes turned back to the carpet below. His mind worked ten times faster than hers, so he had ample time to look over every strand of fabric twice before speaking once more.

"Hit and I are two different people... He's a guilty pleasure, an excuse to feel something I normally can't. And he's the man my father raised. And I'm... me. The boy who cried because kids looked at him like he was still in a cage. Or the infallible hero who isn't man enough to keep a simple promise to his wife and kids."

Nemuri stood and held him close in a stern but endearing gesture. As she cupped his cheeks and his knees flanked her on each side, she spoke and he listened.