Shouto was standing in the waiting room with his classmates, numbness removing all feeling from him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t meant to go with this. He should have been there sooner. This was all his fault-
Shouto was snapped out of his thoughts by a heavy hand landing on his shoulder, causing him to turn and look at who was touching him, who turned out to be Iida. “This isn’t your fault, you know,” Iida said, his voice said and glasses missing. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” After a few seconds, Iida removed his hand and went back to where Uraraka and Tsuyu were standing.
While his class mingled with one another, Shouto simply stood in the center of the room, a lonely island amongst the vast waters of nothing. He could only hear the muffled voices of his classmates, his friends, the bodies no more than blurry colors moving past him. Shouto stood in the chaos of it all, not a single thought in his head. That is, until a nurse told them that they could see Midoriya. Everyone jumped up and basically ran into the hallway, eventually throwing open the door to Midoriya’s room.
Shouto was left standing in the waiting room, the sleek white walls laughing at and taunting him, calling him a coward and the reason Midoriya was injured.
Shouto turned around and left the hospital.
Shouto waited. He waited. And waited.
He waited until he would hear conversations about Midoriya in the coffee shop he frequented.
He waited until the list of injured heroes made the new channels he never bothered to watch.
He waited until he felt like he was going to drown.
And finally, when he felt as if he were going to die of asphyxiation, Shouto found himself sliding open the door to room 421 in the hospital he’s seen far too many times. When he stepped into the room, a sadness that had been lodged in his chest evaporated.
Before him was a room filled with sunlight, plants hanging from and draped over every open inch of the room. Shouto turned his focus from the plants to the main attraction. In a bed pushed up against the far wall next to the large window sat a boy with curly black hair that turned green in the right lighting, his head turned towards the window, obscuring his face. He look frail and fragile, like he would disintergrate if you looked at him the wrong way.
Looking past the boy and out the window, Shouto could see the petals of the sakura tree outside fluttering down onto the cold pavement below, a gust of wind causing them to dance as if they were at a masquerade ball.
The sight was… Strangely peaceful. Beautiful, one might even say.
After standing there for what felt like hours, the boy turned his soft jade eyes to meet Shouto’s, his gaze missing that familiarity Shouto was so used to seeing. They held contact for about a minute, the room silent. You could see the dust particles swirling around the cold white room, the colors of the plants slowly fading into the background as Shouto predicted what the boy was going to say. He tilted his head to the side, a soft and quiet smile adorning his porcelain skin. A mild confusion was in his eyes like hidden diamonds in a coal mine.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”