Third Person Omniscient
"My eyes…" Midoriya complains, almost rubbing his face before remembering all the cosmetics that were on it. "Why did they take so many photos of me?"
Kirishima pats Izuku on the back as they step off the red carpet, causing Izuku to enter 'Gay Panic' mode instantaneously. "You'll get used to it, besides who wouldn't want to see photos of you?"
Midoriya's eyes widen, before looking down on the ground, fidgeting with his shirt, suddenly self-conscious. "I can think of a few people…" Izuku mumbles, his mind circling back to someone better left forgotten.
Kirishima narrows his eyes, but Bakugou interrupts the two males. "We need to get out of here," he points behind himself, and Eijiro groans when he sees Monoma Neito posing in front of the reporters.
Midoriya's whole face turns pale and fights to keep himself from hiding in between Kiri and Katsuki. "S-Should I apologize?" He stutters out, facing the blonde and redhead.
Eijiro tilts his head, confused. "For what? Have you two met before?"
Midoriya makes a few incoherent noises, all of which are trying to explain why he would have had to pin Monoma's arm behind his back. Bakugou began to wonder if Izuku had his own language.
Katsuki, losing patience, answers adequately for Izuku. "Neito was an ass, so Midoriya taught him a mini-lesson."
The YouTuber guides his boyfriend and Midoriya over to a less-crowded area, apologizing to all the well-dressed celebrities and sidestepping the caterers.
"What did this mini-lesson entail?" Eijiro demands, suddenly questioning why he ever let the two males out of the house without him.
Izuku, suddenly feeling like a scolded child, looks down. "Well, um, you see, I was like 'you shouldn't be that close' since he was like… in my personal bubble, ya know? But he was about to do some not very nice things, so I popped his personal bubble too by…" Midoriya trails off, staring at the black wallpaper.
Kirishima gestures for Izuku to continue, eyes desperate.
"I, uh, grabbed his arm and pinned it to his back?" Midoriya winces out, sweat beading over his brow.
Eijiro looks at Bakugou, flabbergasted, and the greenette's stomach tightened. Over the past few years, he had been told that he wasn't good for anything other than Judo, that he and his ex-boyfriend were in their own league, that they weren't normal. At first, it seemed like Midoriya and his partner were in their own little world, it was a twisted, dark thing they shared, but eventually, Izuku was alone.
Midoriya didn't know what he'd do if Kirishima began to see him as a delinquent. Izuku hadn't been this concerned when he had attacked Neito, so why was he so distressed now?
"Hey Midoriya, it's okay, we'll figure it out," Kirishima assures as soon as he sees the look of Izuku's face. "I'm sure you just did what you had to, right?"
If Izuku was being rational, if he wasn't around hundreds of people if the world had been kinder to him, Eijiro's statement would've relieved him, but instead, it made him feel inferior. He was working for them, he was supposed to be protecting Bakugou in whatever way he could, yet they didn't even trust him enough to tell him what happened in America. But then again, who was he to throw stones? He had a list of secrets a mile long and had made no move to tell anyone about it. He was a coward, and he was dying for someone to tell him that that was okay.
"Hey nerd, you okay?" Katsuki asks the blonde was becoming genuinely worried.
"I'm fine," Midoriya attempts to assure, but his voice trembled all the way through.
Kirishima almost touches Midoriya's back but remembers how the greenette had acted when Eijiro tried to do it last time. He glances at his boyfriend, feeling horribly helpless.
"Let's get out of here, I'll contact Tokoyami, and he'll come up with some lame-ass excuse as to why I ditched." Bakugou whips out his phone, dialing his manager, Tokoyami's number with one hand, and is about to walk to a private area when Izuku tugs on his sleeve.
"D-Don't, I'm fine, I swear," the bodyguard mumbles, his little fingers tightening on Bakugou's dress shirt.
"Don't be a dumbass, you're shaking like a leaf," Bakugou notes, showing his concern in the only way he knew how. "I'll be back, you've got it, Kiri?"
Kirishima nods, peering at Izuku, he wasn't entirely sure what was causing Midoroya to panic. The crowd was massive, but he had managed to get through the herd of reporters and photographers with little issues. Was it Monoma? Katsuki and Izuku had made it seem like the greenette had gotten to the jackass before he did anything serious, but maybe not? If Neito did do something… He and Eijiro would be having a small chat.
Midoriya stood next to Kirishima, eyes watery; he didn't know what was happening. His throat felt tight, and he had to force himself not to jump at any sudden noises. He was hot and sweaty; the room felt like it was collapsing in on him.
"Midoriya, I need you to breathe," Eijiro murmurs, wanting to panic himself. "You're okay; I'm okay, we'll be leaving soon."
What the fuck was happening? Izuku knew the whole situation was ridiculous, yet the pounding in his head was persistent, and he couldn't get his breathing under control. Kirishima was saying something to him, but Midoriya couldn't understand what. He sinks to the ground, his legs giving out.
When Bakugou returned, his boyfriend was frantic. "I don't know what we should do; he's not responding to me," Kirishima whispers.
Katsuki crouched low, his face close to Midoriya's. The reporters must be loving this, Bakugou thought wryly. The blonde grabs Izuku's face gently, and the greenette's body tenses immediately. "Listen to me, Midoriya. You're having a panic attack; we need to get out here, Eijiro's going to carry you out, is that okay?"
For a moment, Bakugou wonders whether or not Izuku understood him until the bodyguard's head gives an almost imperceptible nod. The blonde gestures Kirishima over, and the redhead swiftly picks up Midoriya, carrying him in a bridal fashion.
Izuku buries his face in Eijiro's shoulder, his calloused hands falling limply when he sees the hoard of gawkers staring at the three males.
Bakugou clears their path to the door with little politeness. "I'll let the idiots know we left soon, they probably already know, though." Katsuki calmly comments, gesturing at the crowd all far too interested in their business.
The cool night air hits them as they walk out of the amphitheater, a line of cabs already waiting, Katsuki opens the door for Eijiro and Izuku, and quickly opens one of the vehicle's doors, his face passive.
Eijiro slides in, Izuku never attempting to move away from him. When Bakugou gets in, he peers at the two of them, wondering if they should even bother moving Midoriya to the middle.
"What's the address?" The cab driver asks, turning her face to us.
"Should we take him back to his apartment?" Kiri whispers, holding Izuku awkwardly as he attempts to buckle in.
Bakugou shakes his head, moving to help his boyfriend. "I don't know the address and have no idea how to get there from here. We'll just have to call his roommate or whatever and let her know."
Izuku leans his head against the cold window, still resting on Eijiro's lap. "She's out on a flight tonight. She won't be back until tomorrow." He breaths out, voice fragile.
Kiri purses his lips before turning to the driver and giving her the address. As the car starts with a low hum, Bakugou looks out the window, the glowing signs, and street lights illuminating the way. He knew that it was something about Monoma that had triggered Izuku's anxiety, but beyond that, he was lost. The blonde knew he'd have to ask Midoriya to truly understand, but the thought of doing so made him feel like a fraud. He, himself, was too much of a coward to tell Midoriya about America, yet he wanted Midoriya to share his life story? Pathetic.
*Talk of abuse present in the following paragraphs, a bold hyphen will be placed when it begins and ends.*
"We're here," the cab driver's melodious voice announces.
Katsuki gives her the money, telling the driver to keep the change as he swings open the car door.
"Can you walk?" Kirishima inquires, unlatching his seatbelt. Kirishima was more than a little wary; he hadn't ever experienced anxiety attacks himself and was caught off guard by this situation.
Midoriya nods hesitantly, slipping off of Kirishima's lap and, with a burst of courage, enters the brisk night air, Eijiro following suit so after.
All three were silent as they trudged to the front door, their shoes running through the grown out grass.
Eijiro could still smell Midoriya's minty scent on him, it was engulfing, and his arms felt empty. He glanced at Katsuki, but his gaze was locked on the greenette trailing behind them, his crimson eyes focused and observing.
Kirishima picks up his pace and steps onto the front porch, reaching into his pockets for his keys, sticking the brass object into the lock, unlocking it with a simple turn.
The house feels eerily silent as Katsuki closes the door behind him, the thought that he was over today playing repeat. Eijiro scratches his cheek before speaking. "I'm going to go talk to Kaminari and let them know we're fine; I'll be back in a minute."
Bakugou nods, collapsing on the couch as Eijiro walks down the hallway. He gestures for Izuku to sit down as well, but the Judoka just stands in the entrance, eyes downcast.
Katsuki sighs, his chest feeling oddly tight. "I'll tell you my shit if you tell me yours."
The corners of Midoriya's mouth lift humorlessly, and he looks up, face solemn. "I already know about America, so I think the deal is a little one-sided."
Bakugou stops the flinch that was working its way up to the surface. "Well, I hate being at a disadvantage, so now you really have to tell me."
Midoriya doesn't say anything, his story was too long just to dish out in one sitting, and his energy was running low. Instead, he sits at the opposite end of the couch, facing Katsuki as he hugs his legs.
Bakugou grimaces as if fighting with himself before gritting out a word he rarely says. "Please, Midoriya."
-
Izuku's eyes widen, and he gnaws on his bottom lip, and soon words slowly spill out of his mouth, as if they had been composed years ago. "I... was a really confident kid. I had an affinity for Judo, and because of that, I felt invincible. I was oddly humble, which kept me from being too much of an asshole but I remember thinking to myself that I could easily beat everyone in my classroom.
By the time I was out of primary school, I constantly felt bored with everything around me. I'd constantly seek out new people, simply for the hope of something interesting. I stopped thinking of them as living, breathing, people, and more like little bouts of entertainment.
When I was around fourteen, Uraraka moved into the house across from me. I sought her out, we'd walk to school together and tease each other, it was fun at first, but I lost interest a month or so afterward. I had 'deduced' that she was just like all the other girls at my school, and dropped her.
A week later, she came banging on my door, calling me a jackass and other vulgarities. She stood in front of me, her cheeks red with rage and demanded that I walk her to school every morning." Midoriya chuckles at the memory, feeling warm, before continuing.
"After that, I slowly became less of an ass and decided that I wanted to help others. When we started high school, my friend Todoroki, joined the Dojo I was at, and slowly, oh so slowly, we became friends." Izuku pauses, he was getting to the part of the story he didn't want to tell.
"By the time I was sixteen, I was blissfully happy, I was becoming an amazing Judoka, and I had two friends that never ceased to surprise me.
Things started to fall apart when the place Todoroki and I went to burned down, the A/C unit just randomly caught aflame, and the fire department didn't get there in time. We switched Dojos, and through that, I meant a guy named Shigaraki Tomura. He had an odd appearance and was gaunt as hell. The first time we competed in a match, I lost for the first time in five years. At first, I was discouraged and more than a little pissed, but overtime, I was incredibly intrigued. Shigaraki rarely beat me after that.
There was something about him that made me desperate to know more; maybe it was the way he seemed to avoid everyone around him or the way his eyes only seemed to ignite when he was fighting.
Either way, we fell madly in love with one another. At first, we were your average high school sweetheart cliche, but the longer we were together, the more twisted we became.
We picked fights with each other in broad daylight, using dirty tricks and lies to get the other pissed. Uraraka used to scream at me that I had lost my mind almost every day. I would come to school wrapped in bandages and covered in bruises.
At the time, both of my parents were gone more than they were home, so there was no one to ground me or tell me to knock it off, other than her or Todoroki. They kept telling me he was abusive, but I used the excuse that it only happened while doing matches."
Midoriya pauses, wincing at the memories. "Eventually, Shigaraki made a habit of calling me 'Deku,' which means useless if you didn't know. He'd tell me he was the only one who gave a shit about me.
At first, I thought it was just another part of his jacked-up humor, but the more he said it, the more I believed it. Two years ago, I finally got help after being with him for six years. But my confidence in myself was gone, if it weren't for Uraraka and Todoroki, I never would've made it to the Olympics.
When I found out my opponent was Shigaraki I snapped, I hadn't considered the possibility, that since he was technically Korean, that he could compete for them. I assured myself that I could do it. That I'd be fine. But when I got up there, I barely fought, I was terrified. It was the most humiliating moment of my life.
Judo had been my safe space for as long as I could remember. It was something I was undeniably good at; I didn't care that people thought I was a freak. Judo was mine, and then it wasn't. It was his. And his alone. In that match, he whispered things in my ear; I will never stop hearing. Everything he had done to me in the years previous felt like rainbows compared to the feeling I had that match. The feeling of hitting rock bottom." Midoriya's voice cracks as his vision turned blurry.
"For awhile afterward, I tried to pretend I was fine, and everyone bought it. So when I finally, mentally and physically, broke a month afterward, no one could figure out why. Todoroki and Uraraka guessed it was the match, but I denied it over and over again. I thought that by admitting it, I was admitting the power Tomu- Shigaraki had over me. So I didn't tell them, and I still haven't. Obviously, they know that Shigaraki was abusive, but I'll never tell them or anyone else the extent of it. Because I'll never recover." Izuku falls silent, his throat dry and cracked.
"Uraraka insisted I get a job, and a bodyguard was the best we could come up with."
Katsuki, who had stared at Midoriya throughout the whole story, never looking away, bites his tongue hard enough for it to bleed. The day he had been attacked, was the worst day of his life, just thinking about it made his stomach turn. So the thought of being in an abusive relationship for years on end felt suffocating. He had survived that day because of Eijiro. Where do you find help when you can't even trust your partner?
"You know what's kind of pathetic?" Midoriya softly mumbles. "Sometimes, when I'm upset, I try to convince myself that Shigaraki wasn't abusive. That if I were to knock on his door one night, he'd let me in and tell me how much he loved me." Midoriya lets out another dry laugh. "Pretty pathetic," he repeats, voice tired.
An abusive relationship was far beyond physical harm, an abusive relationship messed with your head, carving scars in your brain that could never completely heal. Izuku knew that, but why couldn't he, after all this time, think of Shigaraki poorly?
Bakugou reaches over and gently holds Midoriya's chin. "You're not pathetic. You're stronger than you'll ever know and smarter than you'll ever admit. You survived, Midoriya. You, after all that shit, lived to tell the tale. And that makes you a living, breathing, miracle." Katsuki smooths at the strands of Izuku's hair that had begun to stick out once more. Neither or them say a word, and eventually Midoriya falls against Katsuki’s shoulder, as if he couldn’t hold himself up anymore.
-
The sound of footsteps became slowly louder as Kirishima approached them, he had heard most of the conversation, but couldn’t get himself to move into the living room until now.
Slowly, at Katsuki’s nod, Eijiro sits next to Midoriya. And Katsuki and Eijiro both wrap their arms around one another, Izuku resting perfectly in the middle, tears tracing the jawline of his face. And for a single moment, things felt okay.
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