Butterfly [ ON HIATUS/MIDORIYA ]

018. fluffy towels.

✿

I had never seen Izuku in that way. The way he spoke over the phone, his shoulders slumped as he waited for the other person. Who's Bakugou? I leaned against the doorway, exhausted from my lack of sleep. Everything was hard. Setting down the plant by the windowsill, I caught the last bit of his thought.

My eyes wandered around to the glass that was strewn across the apartment. I put a hand up to my mouth, beginning to chew on my nails. I watched him click off the phone, staring straight ahead out the window. Midoriya exhaled.

"Are you okay?" I asked out loud, brushing hair out of my face.

I watched his head slowly turn toward me. The light caught the outline of his shadow. He broke into a smile, even though I could see the concern in his eyes.

"Of course, Nishimara! I'll figure this out," he faced me. I could see the tension in his arms, the way he held the phone.

"Who's... Bakugou?" I asked, hesitating. It's really not my business. Should I even ask that?

He sighed, smiling down at the phone. It became tighter lipped. "Just an old friend. He's not the best about responding, but I know he's there."

"Oh," I nodded.

He had so much enthusiasm and faith in this person. Why? There was a silence between us. I watched his eyes move toward the destruction of Wada and I's apartment. It wasn't fantastic. The flicker in his facial expression made me uneasy.

"I... I should clean up the glass," I said, throwing on some house shoes and starting out toward the living room.

Without another word, Izuku bent down and began picking it up as well. I brought out a broom. He was diligent. His rough and scarred hands picking up each piece with care. I gave a slight smile. I had forgotten about the fact I was wearing a tank top and shorts. Every scar, every inch of my burned body exposed.

And he didn't say a word.

"You don't have to help me!" I insisted, taking each round of glass in the dustpan to the trash.

"You really think I'll stand aside? No way!" He said, squatting on the floor and picking up the larger pieces.

It took us a while to finish picking everything up. Where I couldn't reach, he would shut the door or put away whatever had fallen out. We'd bump into each other every so often, not knowing which way to go. Awkwardly laughing.

"I'll pay for lunch, Nishimara. We can talk about how to tackle this," his voice was much more determined than I realized. I smiled, but my thoughts drifted to words Wada said.

I wasn't supposed to see him. What if he sees me with him? What if he tries to hurt him? What if—

I guess Izuku could see my thoughts clearly, his arm extending. It rested on my bare shoulder, my arms crossed across my chest as I thought. I stopped my panicked thoughts, glancing up at the green-haired man in front of me.

"It'll be okay. We'll be careful, I promise."

Izuku's voice drew comfort, his eyes filled with understanding. It dawned on me how awful I looked. My eyes were red and puffy, my hair in the grossest mess of a ponytail I had ever had.