Y/N slowly kicked her legs back and forth, making her swing move. She looked up at the sound of the crunching mulch. "Good evening," she mumbled, continuing to swing gently. "Why aren't you in your slide?" The boy asked, hands dug into his pockets. "There's no point in hiding anymore."
He walked over to the swing set and sat on the swing one over, leaving an empty seat between them. Silently, the two of them swung back and forth, squeezing the chain handles tightly. Looking over discreetly, he saw a few yellow bruises running up her legs. There was a brand new blue and purple patch painted onto her calf. "So," Y/N began to speak, making him lift his eyes up in order to avoid being caught staring, "I guess I'm sorry for hurting you." "You didn't hurt me," he grumbled, "but I guess I—I shouldn't have used my quirk on you the way I did." "Yeah," she chuckled, "it was kinda a dick move."
He squeezed the chain and it pinched at his skin. He hated her laughing at him. Looking back over at her, he noticed the tear streaks that were shining atop her skin from the streetlight's reflection. "Why do you cry so much?" He asked, making Y/N sigh. She stomped her feet into the ground, stopping her swing. "You gonna call me more creative names than loser and crybaby?" "I won't call you any names." She rolled her eyes and sat her hands into her lap, focusing on them instead of the boy sitting near her.
"I cry because it's hard to believe something when only you believe it." He groaned leaning far back in his seat while holding onto the chains to keep from falling. "What the hell does that even mean?" "I'm quirkless." "What does that have to do with believing something?" "Everyone I've ever met with a quirk has told me I'm useless. It's hard to convince myself that I'm not when no one tells me that I'm not." He didn't respond, instead, he kept his head parallel to the ground and watched the stars sprinkled across the sky.
"I know you wouldn't understand," Y/N chuckled, "because you seem to agree with them." She leaned back the same as him and closed her eyes. "But I absolutely refuse—I refuse to be told by some stupid dick that I was born useless." The two teens, both facing the sky, both sharing a different view of each other, both sat in silence, wondering how to talk to one another.
"You gotta let me ask a question about you too," Y/N smiled, lifting herself up. He mumbled curses under his breath as he rose too. "What is it?" Starting to kick her feet again, Y/N asked, "Why do you keep coming back here every night?" He was struck with the reality of his own choice. He had been coming back, but he wasn't sure exactly why. Coming here for the first time was just a random choice because he needed to sit down to cry, but now he wasn't crying, he was just talking with this girl for four nights in a row.
"I-I don't really know," he admitted, "I guess it's just nice to be alone here with no expectations. I like it." Hearing the clinging of the seat, he looked up to see her standing above him. She reached out and put her hands above his on the handles then leaned her face down towards him. "You aren't alone though, every night, I'm here. And you don't like quirkless people yet you came back even after I told you. If you like loneliness so much, why don't you find a different playground?"
The boy found his face to warm up just at her close presence. She was very annoying. It disgusted him. "Answer my question, explosion-man." "That's not my name," he hissed. "I don't care, ground zero, answer my question." Pulling his hands away from the warmth of hers, he pushed at her chest to get her away from him.
"You're tolerable," he answered, "and this is the closest place to my house." Crossing her arms, Y/N kicked at the ground. "Even if I'm a quirkless loser?" "You aren't a loser," he sighed, standing up, "but you still are a crybaby."
