Jirou didn't leave her room after she was excused for five hours. Her thoughts were jumbled, and her room reeked of sweat, and her heart filled with dread. Her throat and lungs had a similar kind of filling, but instead it was flowers that dared to escape every ten minutes. Her hair was matted and Jirou could imagine her face was crazed. She hated this. She hated having such a silly crush, she hated being sick, and she hated herself. Her lips and mouth grew dry, despite the not-so-healthy amount of blood on them. The air conditioner was the only thing keeping her from going mad, the hum from the machine filling her mind with anything other than what would happen the next day, and the cool breeze slowly calming her. Jirou took deep breaths, and let the flowers come out soundlessly. Maybe she could ease her way out of this disease. As much as she wanted that to be the truth, Jirou knew that would never be the case.
She pulled out her phone and flopped onto her bed. Kaminari and Kirirshima were in a heated argument on whether or not All Might would wear Crocs. Jirou snickered about the boys, ignoring the pain it brought her. She typed a quick message to the group chat.
HOWDOTHEYNOTGETTANGLED - what up fellow losers
knowshowtodefeatsomeonewithaknife - You aren't a loser! You're going through something serious, and surviving. I think that's pretty cool.
Tetsutetsu - I TOLD YOU KAMINARI HE'S MANLY LIKE ME!!!!! I WEAR CROCS SO HE MUST HAVE THEM TOO!
Tetsutetsu - also, Jirou, I agree with Ururaka. You're super manly! I respect that.
HOWDOTHEYNOTGETTANGLED - i don't think it's possible for you not to say the word manly in one text honestly.
smolmightconfirmed - You aren't a loser. You're great!
HOWDOTHEYNOTGETTANGLED - midoriya!!! you ruined your pureness!
sanicthehero - How so, Jirou?
HOWDOTHEYNOTGETTANGLED - he lied! lying is a sin!
pervmcgee - so is being gay
TRIGGEREDBOI - COME HERE YOU SHITTY GRAPE!!! IM GONNA BEAT YOU TO A PULP FOR SAYING THAT!!
icyhot - Mineta,, would you kindly suck my dick?
pikachu - that's pretty gay
HOWDOTHEYNOTGETTANGLED - not as gay as me!
Jirou turned off her phone and sighed. She was pretending to be okay for just a few people that she cared about. She was ruining her mental and physical state for a beautiful girl she loved. Her head hurt, so she decided to take a nap. As her eyes fluttered shut only one image remained in her mind. Momo.
/\/\/\
Jirou woke with her vision clouded. It was 10:00 AM on Sunday. Instead of a nap, Jirou slept for the rest of the day and an extra ten hours. She felt sleepier than usual, even if she slept an excessive amount. She knew she had to train, even if she was practically swimming in blood stained petals. It wasn't any excuse that she was dying. She had to act normal. She had to forget about Momo, even if it was only for a minute. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she but her lip to hold them back. She angrily changed clothes, throwing her shirt aside and changing into a sports bra. Usually, unless Momo or Mineta were there, Jirou felt safe wearing just yoga pants and a bra. Boys in her class only did friendly wolf whistles, and she was comfortable with whatever shit girls would throw at her.
Jirou heard a knock on the door, so she called out, "Who is it?"
Jirou suppressed a cough when she heard Momo's voice answer her.
"It's me, Momo. Can I come in?"
Jirou panicked, and she wasn't in control of her body when she said "Yes." Jirou frantically searched around the room for her shirt, the option of getting a new one completely out of mind for her. The band shirt she was previously wearing had completely disappeared, to the point where Jirou was actually considering calling the Ghostbusters. The familiar clicking sound of someone turning the knob sounded through her room. Before she knew it, Jirou was standing half-naked in front of her crush.
"Hi! I know you're probably pretty weak but... I was wondering if you wanted to train with me?" Jirou was slightly relieved at the fact that Momo ignored her current outfit.
"Yeah, actually I was about to head out. Just need to change my pants," Jirou replied, slightly hinting at the fact that she wanted Momo to give her privacy. She couldn't bring herself to flat out tell Momo to leave, so she just internally cursed when Momo nodded and sat on her bed after closing the door. Great. Just fucking great.
At least Momo had the decency to look away. Jirou stripped off her sleepwear, which was just blood stained sweatpants she slept in on accident during "that time of the month." Eventually the puddle in the back became less gross and embarrassing the more she washed them. At this point they looked like a slightly red dark grey spot. Jirou rummaged a bit through her drawer, feeling exposed by the boyshorts she was wearing even though they fully covered her ass. Her hands grazed over the silk-like fabric, and she pulled out the fancy maroon pants. They were thinner around the calves, but still tight everywhere on the pants. She quickly began the struggle of getting them on, which included jumping up and down, waddling around the room, and an excessive amount of pulling that she was sure it could count as training all in itself.
Once Momo was sure Jirou was ready to go, they head out with gym bags and a new sort of hope. It was an entirely new feeling, the two females had no idea how they felt about it. It was that feeling you get when you begin to get close to someone. When you feel at home with them, and never want to leave their side. Momo didn't know it, but Jirou also felt one more thing: Love. And it was strong enough to make Jirou want to crawl back into bed and bask in her mental and physical pain.
Momo had to admit, she felt bad about dragging Jirou out of her room. She knew very well that Jirou should be resting, but she also knew that training relieved stress. It put your mind in the work mindset, and afterwards most bathed in self love and confidence. Momo loved the feeling, and even when she felt like a pile of sludge she would get up and begin punching the nearest punching bag or replacement for one. Each punch, kick, tumble, run, whatever, gave her energy to do anything. Her mind and body went into a "fuck it" mood, and she could do everything she wanted. Chug an entire bottle of water in a minute? Why not. Kick Mineta in the face and balls? It wasn't completely out of the picture, although it really never was. After her heavy physical training she often took time to mend and trace the bruises or cuts she got from stumbling or overworking herself. It felt great to take a cold shower then lay down, and Momo had a strange suspicion that this was what Jirou needed at the time.
They walked silently in the halls, occasionally brushing hands or shoulders. Jirou found herself slowly drifting towards the warmth of the taller girl. She wanted to stand there with her, and find out about every little thing such as how she blushes and her favorite type of cat. Jirou had an idea she knew was probably true. Despite Momo's constantly expanding vocabulary her answer to her favorite cat would be something along the lines of "the orange ones." The halls turned and twisted once they got away from the dorms and to the training grounds.
Jirou set her stuff down onto an empty bench, the multiple shades of grey bag molding into the little indents in the seat. She pulled out her phone and began playing her work out playlist, smiling to herself when "Hero A" began playing. She began humming and mumbling the words once the earbuds were plugged in. Normally, she would use her quirk to listen to music but she decided that this time she wanted to train a bit more with her ear jacks. She pulled out an unusually tall water bottle and her favorite astral-designed cooling towel. Once you wet it with cold water, it becomes a wet towel-like thing that feels like it just came out of the freezer. Despite being close and mostly naked with her crush, only a few petals fell to the ground. Maybe she was getting better.
Despite having been there every weekend and sometimes in class, Jirou still decided to scope out the place. The walls were a tacky brown, with those signature bumps that most walls have. The floors were tiled, with deformed spots from quirks. Todoroki and Bakugou. There was also a few dents in the ground, probably from someone with a strength enhancer quirk like Midoriya. Scattered across the big room were different stations, sort of like the Hunger Games training room. Jirou walked calmly to the far range course, ready to test out her power. She loved the way her feet clicked on the tiles, and she eyed her targets readily. She called out for the voice recognition to begin her training.
"Level one on Bank Robbery Scene!" Jirou's voice had a slight echo with no other person to absorb the sound waves. Momo was still getting ready, and she probably wasn't even going to come over to this station.
Jirou stood behind a pillar that conjured from her voice. She plugged her earphones into the wall, listening for any hint at someone coming her way. There was three people in the building, according to their movements two were hostages and the other was the villain. Scratch that. Four people. The extra was a henchman turning the corner. One more turn, and Jirou would be in his sights. As soon as he got close, she slid between his legs. As she was sliding, she tripped him and down he went. With a swift movement of her hand, the evildoer was tied up. She quickly stuck her earphones back in, trying to detect any movement. They were all in their same places.
Jirou quietly snuck down the set, and with some amazing movement powered by her quirk and Led Zeppelin defeated the next villain. She released the "hostages" and with some flickering the hologram fell to reveal a crowd had gathered to watch her work. What was it that gathered them? Curiosity? Awe? Worry?
Momo was at the front, in complete shock.
"Jirou, how'd you do that? That was..." Momo was at a loss for words, she was completely and utterly stunned with admiration, "amazing, you're amazing."
Jirou blushed, and when she turned more flowers fell onto her feet. She felt a wave of wooziness crash onto her, and soon she was laying in a pile of blood and petals. She was still conscious, but she was tired as fuck. Momo was at her side as soon as her entire body hit the ground, checking her temperature and concluding that Jirou was just tired.
That wasn't the entire truth. Jirou was madly in love.