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Better Days

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Hitoshi was a habitual worrier. He’d try to deny it if anyone pointed it out, but it was an undeniable fact, and he knew it. There was just that underlying feeling, that cynical suspicion that everything was just too good, that the other shoe was about to drop. Hitoshi had held constant vigilance in this belief, from when he had first understood the way the world was to work when he was young to even now, surrounded by mountains of schoolbooks built up in a barricade around him and illuminated by tiny screens scattered around his makeshift castle. He had to believe that. It was the only way to survive a biased world, filled with biased people. He gently touched a scar running across the length of his right collarbone. Phantom pains sprouted from every place his fingers brushed as they travelled along the length of the long-healed injury.

He had to.

It was a blessing and a curse, he supposed. Constant skepticism kept you on your toes, thinking ahead and ever-prepared for disaster. It kept you alive, walking and talking and safe in dangerous situations- and situations not so traditionally menacing as well.

But it was also and inescapable curse, he realized as he checked two browsers and an app simultaneously on phone and laptop. Hitoshi caught himself mentally running through all of the news channels he could flick through on the common room TV and froze before sighing heavily. No, this was obsessive now, a fixation that was unhealthy for all involved. It was horrendous, and yet addicting. Gnawing at his lip, Hitoshi closed his eyes for a second and let the growing migraine pulse behind his strained eyes as he massaged the bridge of his nose. He let himself drift like that for a moment before forcing his eyes back open and swiping away from the ever-updating list of news articles gathered from around the Internet to open up the messenger. The stories flashed for a second onscreen before the messenger app opened.

Definitely completely obsessive.

But, he thought as he looked upon a dimly lit note on the wall,

Could you really blame him?

 

[DIRECT MESSAGES BETWEEN YOU AND SPACEMAN]

 

[23:12:56] You: hey.

[23:13:02] You: hey spaceman.

[23:13:10] You: green-bean machine.

[23:13:15] You: broccoli-head.

[23:13:21] You: seaweed-brain.

[23:13:24] You: hey.

[23:13:26] You: ...

[23:13:36] You: izuku.

[23:13:42] You: please tell me you’re alright.

[23:13:58] You: it might be stupid but

[23:14:05] You: oh whatever

[23:14:08] You: it doesn’t matter anyways

[23:14:15] You: just… tell me when you get there

[23:14:22] You: don’t leave me hangin, man

[23:14:28] You: i might send my geese after you

[23:14:29] You: >:-)

[23:14:36] You:

[23:14:46] You: ...promise me that i’ll wake up tomorrow to hear that you’re okay.

[23:14:52] You: i know that it’s not really possible

[23:14:55] You: but promise me.

[23:15:10] You: well

[23:15:16] You: i should probably get some sleep now

[23:15:25] You: the crew managed to finagle a training deal for me with Eraserhead-san so that I can train with your class some of the time- somehow

[23:15:31] You: a lot has happened since you left

[23:15:34] You: g’night, spaceman

[23:15:50] You: stay safe.

 

[YOU CLOSED THE CHAT WINDOW]