Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Yuga Aoyama x Izuku Midoriya

Requested by: fuckingmultishipper

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

It started as a passing glance, noticing that the ever-ostentatious male ate solitary meals in the classroom. He remained out of view, despite constantly demanding the recognition of his fellow students. Slowly, it became more obvious - the hesitation in addressing anyone as a 'friend', the moments when he doubled-over in pain, vomiting when he presumed no-one to be paying any heed. A concerned Midoriya had, on more than one occasion, contemplated checking up on the blonde, but he always reverted back to his usual spirited, rather obnoxious character when he tried. No worried words could penetrate the ornately-decorated bubble in which he resided.

This left the aspiring hero quite grief-stricken, for he held his classmates with the utmost regard and admiration. To even insinuate that there was no possible cure for Aoyama's ailment, at least to the verdant prince, was absolutely absurd. Of course he acknowledged the symptoms of depression, and thus the outbursts from the blinding star, like a quasar on the brink of eruption. Still, it was extremely distressing to witness a friend seemingly so broken, so battered by life - by something out of his control. Midoriya started hanging around the classroom during breaks and after hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blonde, with a gentle smile embellishing his face. He didn't wish to intrude on Aoyama's personal time, but he was fraught with concern, which overrode all his other emotions. The belt, exaggerating the flashiness of his hero costume, only served to further plague the bushy-haired boy; it appeared in constant need of adjustment, and Aoyama's gaze would always drift upon it with a despondency reminiscent of utter hopelessness - the same which had occupied his mind for years, before meeting All Might and becoming accustomed to his newfound powers.

Often, he seemed to imagine the blonde burning holes into his back, or staring deeply (almost lovingly) into his eyes with veneration. However, upon the craning of his neck, the other's attention would be averted, as if the entire fiasco had been but a mere dream. Midoriya searched desperately for some rational explanation - why would anyone, let alone a boy who typically displayed such confidence, admire him? He didn't fancy himself anything special or over-the-top, so why? After a few of these strange experiences, he decided to chalk it up to an over-active and paranoid mind.

As soon as he lowered his head or looked aside, those aquamarines, twinkling lowly with dimming stars, would once more be upon Midoriya. It was, by now, something of a forlorn fascination. The acceptance he so sought after, he told himself, was nothing but a pipe dream - dreadfully unattainable and agonising to consider. He figured that he might feel the long-forgotten flapping of tiny wings, beating against the lining of his stomach, if only the green beauty would play him a smile. Denying his amorous emotions towards his classmate was pointless, but they vowed to forever remain in his heart. He couldn't possibly risk letting them out in the open; the ridicule he received for his pretentious personality was already more than enough to deal with. He refused to thaw his heart for this boy, this tender, yet ridiculously-powerful boy.

No matter the cost, whether great or small, those feelings would fester within his heart forevermore. At least, that had been the plan. Unfortunately, Midoriya apparently strove to be a hands-on kind of person, always wanting to help his companions with their issues. This (perhaps flawed) character trait only drove Aoyama closer and closer to the brink of hope; a dark cesspit in which escape was virtually impossible. It wasn't something he desired, for he had resolved to push his love aside, but those innocent, emerald orbs entangled his heart, as well as his unyielding attention. The grip of Midoriya's compassion was vice-like and determined to trap the blonde eternally in its web, unless he boasted his darkest secrets. There really was no eluding that boy's friendship, his allure.

Many men had tried and failed, and Aoyama just so happened to be a monumental failure.

"How are you feeling?" The voice, dripping in honey and sugar, echoed in his ears.

It sounded heavenly, especially to an individual so demoralised.

"Whatever do you mean? Aren't I always in exquisite condition?"

The questions did little to alleviate the doubt, not to mention the tension blossoming among the teenagers. "Aoyama...you're always alone. You never hang out with any of us, and I'm...well, I'm kind of worried, actually. You don't seem okay - ever."

Flashing an unreliable thumbs-up, he replied, "Such company is unbefitting of moi, wouldn't you agree?"

Needless to say, Midoriya did not agree in the slightest.

[Word Count: 774]