In Her Name [BNHA x Reader]

[77] One More Time

Once Midoriya stopped crying, he pulled away from you.

He immediately let out a shrill scream.

A soggy, dark gray stain ran from the front of your shirt down to the crotch of your pants. It looked like you'd somehow vomited and pissed yourself at the same time.

Midoriya teleported to his feet. Backflipping away from you, he dropped onto all fours and repeatedly bashed his head against the floor. "I'm so sorry!"

You blinked. This was the most Japanese apology you'd ever seen.

"You will get brain damage, Midoriya. Please stop."

"Please forgive me!"

He didn't dare lift his head. Underneath his dark curls, he blushed with shame. After all you'd done for him– giving him the courage to face Bakugou, helping him finally move on– this was how he repaid you.

His laugh tasted of bittersweet chocolate.

In the end, I'm still–...

"Midoriya, look."

His head jerked upward.

Glowing heat surged through the veins in your arms. It was with widening eyes that Midoriya noticed the air was getting hotter, hotter, and hotter, until it became dead dry.

The wet patches on your clothing began to grow lighter until it was as if they were never there at all.

A lightbulb went off over Midoriya's head. He sat back on his haunches to snap his fingers. "It's because the water molecules are moving to where there's less of them! That way, the concentration of water in the air and in your shirt is even. It's osmosis!"

There was the slightest softening of your eyes. "Yes."

So all it took was a little science to cheer him up.

Nerd.

The thought of Bakugou made every muscle fiber in your chest twist in on itself.

You had to trust Kirishima.

The two of them must've been talking right now, somewhere only they knew.

A sailor was guiding home a lost star.

One more time, if Bakugou made the effort to meet Kirishima in the middle, if he took Kirishima's outstretched hand just one more time...

"Um..."

Artificial pupils constricted to zero in on Midoriya.

He was looking up at you, nervously playing with his hands. Sweat beaded on his cheek, a water droplet on a fresh strawberry.

"Yes, Midoriya?"

He swallowed.

For a moment, he had been able to read you just as well as Bakugou could.

He did not need your words to be able to tell how you were feeling.

The stiffness in your jaw, the slow up-down of your chest–

you were worried.