๑Nᴇᴊɪʀᴇ-Cʜᴀɴ · @ShxckingTwists
19th Sep 2018 from TwitLonger
ᴡᴇ ғɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ
Oneshot/Solo
Characters: Nejire Hadou & Mirio Togata
*SPOILER WARNING*
A/N: This is not to be misinterpreted as shipping! We've seen a lot of interaction between Mirio and Tamaki, but I think Nejire needs some love, and what we've seen of her serious dialogue is seldom, so I wanted to write my own insights on Nejire and Mirio's relationship in particular. This will take us back to the Eri Rescue, before we had knowledge of Sir Nighteye's inevitable fate, so this might be somewhat of an AU? So as not to be confused also, there will be alternating point of views between Nejire and Mirio. If you're caught up to the manga, then you're already familiar with the circumstances! Thank you, and enjoy!
There had never been a silence so loud as the one that had befallen Yūei Academy. The whispers were more insufferable still, and the telltale buzz only paused whenever and wherever the third-year heroine meandered. Under previous circumstances, the noise was a jubilant clamor, excited and charismatic. Students and teachers alike gave Nejire and Chicken Heart weary stares. Tamaki never looked at anything besides a wall or his own feet so he probably didn't notice. Nejire, however, knew all eyes were on them. And she paid no mind. She smiled nonchalantly still, with dewy eyes and her hands folded neatly behind her back. It was as though no tragedy had occurred and it was another regular school day where she and her classmates would traverse from class to class to greet the younger students.
A few condescending commentaries reached her ears from time to time that she didn't seem to care that Mirio Togata had lost his quirk indefinitely.
“Are they even friends?"
"Hadō doesn't act any bit worried!"
"Hadō must not have a heart.”
“Only Amajiki cares. He's a lot closer to Togata-senpai than anyone else.”
She heard it all. She never reacted. She never responded.
She was one of the Big 3. Everyone always watched her. They admired her. They adored her.
So she needed to be cool Nejire-chan in and outside of school. It wasn't so much a façade as it was a defensive mechanism for the spirited girl. She mustn't allow herself to show any sliver of weakness.
“Sunflowers are big and showy, like Togata's face, did'ja know?” She exclaimed contentedly to the hospital gift shop's clerk as she handed out the money for a bouquet of flowers. She was holding a large sunflower in her left hand that she randomly picked on her way to the hospital to visit her friend. It was only recent that Togata was allowed visitors, that she'd been aware of, but she had the feeling Amajiki-kun had paid more visits already. It didn't miff Nejire; who could stand between the strong bond between childhood friends?
She certainly would not. She could not.
She carefully arranged the bigger flower in the middle of the tulips with an absentminded expression.
She wasn't exactly too sure about how Togata would receive her, remembering how utterly defeated he looked when he thought nobody was looking en route to the hospital that fateful day.
Nejire hoped he wasn't resentful.
~
Mirio wanted to break out. The hospital was stifling in every wrong way, and as it was he couldn't use his quirk to go around and help anyone out or play any games. All he had was the T.V., something that made his stomach turn every time he flipped through a channel.
Robberies, murders, attacks of all kinds, even if they weren't done by members of the League of Villains, they were making use of the confusion to attack the innocent without worry. It made him sick, it made him angry, but at the end of it all, it just made him feel useless.
Save a million. That was his goal, his dream, it was what made him reach the top like he did. His first real rescue, protecting someone so small and meek, he did so at a heavy price.
How long would he be stuck in here? How many people have to suffer before he can help them once more? With something less than a smile on his face he turned off the television, laying back and staring at the empty ceiling. What day was it anymore? He couldn't even remember when the doctors had allowed people to visit him; he only took note of who it was and why they came.
Tamaki came daily, something that didn't surprise him at all. What did surprise him was how often he'd seen kids from 1-A coming alongside him. One day it was Midoriya and the one kid... Red Riot. He couldn't remember his actual name off the top of his head, just the praise the hero had received for his wondrous work during this mission.
Honestly, everyone had done amiably, not that it surprised him at all. His fellow classmates were wonderful, both in quirk and spirit. Sir came in often too, but not quite as often. He'd been gone the last few days as well, maybe because of how Mirio had acted. In the end, whenever Sir entered the room he'd keep his eyes trained on everything besides him. He didn't want Foresight used.
Certainty scared him in this moment. If he didn't know for certain that his quirk would ever return, then the chance always remained that it could. Maybe not now, or a week from now, but maybe once he was fighting a villain again, his spirit would burn so bright that his quirk would reawaken! Let it be like a manga! That'd be super cool.
But his thoughts would be cut short as a sudden knock at the door also knocked some sense into him. His smile brightened and his brooding countenance seemed to completely shift, and on the outside he was the same Mirio Togata as ever: a beacon of warmth for everyone to bask in.
"Come in!" It was in the air who'd walk through that door. He hoped it was a friendly face and not another nurse. He could use someone from the outside to tell him how U.A. was faring, and what the common belief was. Yes, if there was one thing he was truly hoping for, it was information about what people believed happened to him, and how badly it affected morales across the board.
~
As soon as Nejire had stopped in front of Togata's room, she heard the buzz of a television within shut off. Her ears, hidden somewhere among the queer mass of her hair, perked at the sound of faint shuffling. The young heroine suddenly had the vision of the older boy doing push-ups on the sterile floor wearing nothing but the hospital gown she had last seen him in. What a relief it must have been for the nurses that Togata couldn't phase through fabric material anymore. Nejire imagined the nurses to be a flustered and frazzled bunch.
She rapped her knuckles lightly on the door, flowers in her other hand.
The curious girl heard nought but the telltale monotonous beeping of a monitor. Nejire realized Amajiki-kun wasn't there because she knew that he and Togata would be boisterous and bouncing off the walls, or she'd hear Amajiki-kun making retching noises if Togata made him eat the hospital food he couldn't stomach.
Nevertheless, the heroine turned the door handle, blinking rapidly at her friend as if adjusting her eyes to bright light. She practically fluttered over to Togata's bedside, holding the flowers high as though handling a torch.
“Hey hey, I was wondering how dead those flowers would be in this atmosphere, so I brought these~!” She beamed, rather proud of herself. “Roses are too romantic, unless you've a secret admirer..~” Nejire smiled sweetly at the bedridden hero before moving over to remove the dried flora from the bedside table. She tidied up some before filling a vase with her bouquet and gingerly fixing every individual stem so that the arrangement looked perfect.
Nejire would not ask how Togata was feeling because there was no need to point out what was already obvious.
“You need a haircut. Your hair's gotten shaggy so quickly, did'ja know?” Her tongue was very blunt at times, unapologetically so.
~
Mirio couldn't help the short laugh he gave. If it were anyone else, such random commentary would be cause for alarm, but abnormality was the one thing he could rely on Nejire for. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, soon shaking his head like a dog would to make the longer locks go crazy.
"Maybe I should let it grow. Every great hero needs some crazy look to make them stand out. I can have hair that runs down to the floor." He cradled his chin in one hand, looking down as if he were in deep thought over the idea. But, as soon as it came, the idea blew away in the wind. Mirio turned his attention back to the girl with a less intense smile, one that seemed more genuine than characteristic.
It was good to see her, but to say something so cliché and generic just wasn't in them. It's why she hadn't asked him the usual questions. When alone, these two were never restrained by common sense and standard sympathies. She was always fresh, and in this room that so loved to seem suffocatingly alone; it was more blessing than ever before.
"If you want a seat I can always get up. Everyone always tells me the chairs are uncomfortable, so I can't see you tolerating them in the slightest." What an image, the wounded one standing up while the visitor rest upon the bed.
~
Nejire had one what would call, a 'one-track mind'. Her gaze was never fixed on one point; she was always looking at everything and everyone with a gleaming expression. She rocked on the balls of her feet with her hands still folded behind her back and sometimes she would transition
to tiptoeing as high as possible like a ballerina at practice.
It was apparent to anyone that she was living in her own world.
She felt like she was missing all the unique features if she didn't explore. Sometimes it got her into trouble, but it was no doubt another one of her endearing qualities.
The curious girl had been fiddling with Togata's gifts and uneaten candy when her friend suddenly came up with the idea that he would grow out his hair. Nejire closed a hand around a box of pocky while she reverted her attention towards the older boy. Her fair face curdled like milk at the thought of Togata looking like Cousin It from the Addams Family. Nejire really enjoyed the American film....She needed to watch more like it.
“I've groomed dogs before, so you'll be just like a big dog.” The dreamy smile that always adorned her sweet face made the blue of her eyes shimmer like water.
Disregarding Togata's offer for to her sit in his own bed, Nejire would manage to park her friend on his behind, right back to his resting place with a boop on his button nose. “The sun isn't meant to be hidden,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, her smile widening before she whirled around to fetch a pair of scissors, her own mysterious mane of hair bouncing behind her in her sprightly wake.
As bright as Togata mustered to be, the light in his eyes were dim. It made Nejire feel rather disconcerted, but she was also good at concealing most of her emotions.
She was the airhead, after all.
“You did the right thing; I know that you knew what you were doing and what would have happened.“ Her voice dropped a few octaves from its usual high pitch as she spoke. A few snipping noises could then be heard from the sterilized bathroom indicating that Nejire had successfully found a pair of scissors. She skipped back into the room with the same unwavering smile, swelling with pride over her little endeavor.
A trim definitely was what Togata needed.
“Hey hey, don't move too much or you'll aggravate your wound, you know?!” The bubbly girl strode to the boy's side and started tousling his blond hair with idle fingers.
~
Her comments were all over the place. Normally it was easy to comprehend her, but this was something in its own right. She was tugging at various strings and cutting them all at once.
Lighthearted. Dark. Deep. Cheerful. Lighthearted. He was getting an emotional whiplash from it all, reaching a point where even he couldn't keep wearing his plastic smile.
He did the right thing. Did he? Was there no other option? He wanted to be an indomitable wall to separate the innocent from harm, but upon first impact he'd already crumbled so much. He'd had too much time to think. Too much time for All Might to tell him what might happen until that quirk came back. He'd be coddled, treated as something fragile and small. Him. Save a million. Had he become a joke already? Would saving a million become the punchline at parties? His fists clenched at his side.
He didn't regret saving her. But this... Everything. Everything had been turned upside down.
'The sun isn't meant to be hidden.'
So why is he being locked away in this room? Why isn't he allowed to move at all? The last time he tried to leave the room he was all but carried back inside by Sir himself. He shone like the sun itself. But this fight... This loss... Had night come? And how long would it last?
With his tongue growing thick in his mouth, Mirio couldn't think of anything to say as she began cutting his hair. But he knew he couldn't just leave it like that. It was wrong, to both of them and the friendship they made. But could he keep up the jest? It was already difficult to.
"Say, Hadou..." He wasn't moving, but even so it was clear that all he wanted to do right now was turn around and look her in the eye for this. To know she meant what she'd say and wasn't simply trying to comfort him. "Am I strong?" He'd never had extreme doubt until this. But now it was haunting. Hellish. So many people got beat up that in battle, but only he lost in such an extreme. It was bitter to swallow. And every beep of a monitor, flicker of a light, all of it was just a reminder.
He lost, and because of it, the hero Lemillion may never reach more than a single life saved.
~
He didn't need to move to show Nejire his tremors.
The monitor beside Togata gradually beeped more quickly every minute, giving him away as his heart pumped harder than normal.
She hummed a tune reminiscent of melancholic days and heartache when your eyes became wet and your mother or father pacified you with hugs and kisses.
An absent sigh left her quizzical lips while she made meticulous cuts or golden tresses.
Boys' hair was so easy to maintain.
Hairbrushes feared Nejire's odd locks.
“Why do boys have such nice hair?! No knots! No snarls....” With her left hand she combed through the recently cut portions of Mirio's hair. The strokes were fervent, yet gentle. She made certain to pick off every strand, no matter how fair in the light.
With a determined huff, Nejire moved around the boy to sit right by his side, careful that she didn't sit in any wires or remotes that would otherwise annoy her to no end.
She still hummed the same tune as she scrutinized Mirio's profile, using her left hand again to comb through the front to get the signature style of his just right.
“Yosh~!” She squealed, clapping her hands together with the scissors in between. His question lingered in the cold air like scented sprays; actually unpleasant and impossible to ignore.
But who was she to ignore her friend when his shoulders sagged in defeat and his thoughts were in disarray? Her smile never faltered once when they locked gazes finally and she could see the purple bruises of insomnia ringed around Mirio's eyes.
If there was one flaw to be excavated from Nejire's person, it was her inability to lie.
Honesty is the best policy, of course.
“Hey hey, have you ever watched Winnie the Pooh's Grand Adventure?” She didn't wait for an answer. “Christopher Robin was going to school soon and Pooh Bear didn't want to believe that his best friend would ever not be around to play. Christopher Robin wasn't going away forever or anything bad, but Pooh didn't seem to grasp that Christopher Robin was sad to not be able to spend time with him as much. ‘Forever and ever.' That's what Pooh told Christopher Robin when he said that's how long they'd be together.” Nejire only paused when she noticed a stray strand of cut hair sticking out awkwardly from Mirio's pouf. She combed it out with her fingertips before continuing.
“The sun was setting in the Hundred Acre Wood and Pooh was falling asleep in the tree he and Christopher Robin were sitting in, that he'd promise to remember that 'you're braver than you think and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.'” Nejire blinked at Mirio, her deviant smile returning to her features.
“It's always darkest before dawn, Togata. The sun may set, but it will always rise the next day. And just cuz there's a lot of clouds doesn't mean it won't shine again. You know that, right?! Hm??"
~
Braver. Stronger. Smarter. Yeah, that's the kind of backwards answer one should expect from Nejire. Still, she did her best to give him an answer and inspire him at the same time. God, what kind of sun was he if such a little bind was breaking his spirit so violently?
Mirio looked down at his hands, the beeps of all his monitors conducting a song of war in his head. Sure, he lost a battle, but he was alive, and that meant this war was nowhere near lost. His hands, which never stayed solid amidst his fights, held firm in carrying that little girl and saving her. He didn't need to wonder about it, he knew that wherever she was, she'd never forget about the strength his hands held that day, and how warm they'd likely felt holding hers.
Mirio stood up then, smacking his cheeks to put some color back in them. Time for pity was long gone. The fact that he ever accepted any was shameful in its own right. Lemillion had just started.
One down, so many to go, his journey for a million rescues was waiting for him! To sit here another minute would be a disservice to those who believed in him, those who needed him, those who still thought him a hero. He held out his hand, something that seemed so much more solid and real now that he'd lost the ability to make it all but disappear. But it didn't matter, with his hand like this, with it strong and tangible before him, he could reach out to those who awaited him. And right now it was Nejire; he couldn’t disappoint someone who had such high expectations.
"If the sun has set, that must mean stars are out, right? It would be a waste to lose out on them. Let's see what night has in store for we Big 3, and all of our juniors." A classic grin split his previously pallid visage, one true to himself and to his emotions. Somehow, she'd said just what was needed. Who knew Winnie the Pooh was the answer? "Thanks, Nejire, with you here- I can have faith that I'll never stray from becoming the greatest hero."
~
Dissonance, discord, frustration, fear, determination, and resilience had painted a myriad on the boy's plain face. Nejire watched with childlike curiosity, tilting her head off at an angle. Her trademark smile never once faded as she looked at her friend with subtle pride. The Mirio she came to know and befriend couldn't be deterred so easily even by the most dire circumstances. It was very unlike Mirio to fold like this. She knew Christopher Robin had the right idea.
The heart monitor and IV drip beeped a queer harmony that illustrated the ballad of the valor executed by their generation.
Nejire's smile was perpetual, but inside her there was a pang of guilt. Tamaki should be here sharing this moment together with Mirio.
They were best friends, after all.
Nejire only wanted to be supportive to the best of her abilities.
Being sad was simply not in her résumé, though. She only knew how to be upbeat perky Nejire-chan and that's who she'd always be for all the people she saved and loved.
“Stargazing is really fun. The sky is really dark so we don't need a telescope to see even some of the planets!” She happily chimed in with a brush of her hair. She even clapped Mirio's cheeks with her own hands after he smacked them. The little dimples in his cheeks appeared when he did the little frown thing when he was thinking about something.
Impulsivity got the best of the spirited heroine in that moment as she poked her fingertip into the little indentation in the corner of Mirio's cheek. “Your face does this a lot when you concentrate,” she pushed her finger in the dimple a little more firmly, almost expecting it to be permeable, but she knew better.
“You look better with a haircut, you know? I think you look too martial artist-y with shaggy hair...~"
As eccentric as she was, Nejire was the rock that kept both her friends tethered to earth. Sometimes Tamaki was too pessimistic, and Mirio was a little too over-analytical. Boys will be boys, as they say. Rowdy and a tad insecure at times.
And Nejire-chan was there to save the day with her sisterly antics.
“We're pro heroes at this point, not ninjas. If we were, -my- hair definitely wouldn't make the cut..” She tittered, pleased at the irony of her own pun.
At least she could amuse herself.
~
Laughter. Ease. These things were long missed by Mirio. Sure he'd had moments of tomfoolery with the guys or cracking a few jokes with the nurses, but no one had ever been there to address the problem.
Tamaki would act as if nothing was wrong, as if Mirio had simply gotten injured and was being kept for so long as a way of making him take a break. Midoriya could never laugh long before his look of guilt sprang up, as if he should have taken the bullet instead. Red Riot didn't hold such things: no guilt, no pity, but he knew nothing of the boy to try and befriend him in this situation.
Who would've thought, the one girl who was acting as a second mother would be the one to rekindle that fire in his heart and start it anew.
And who knew how quick it would extinguish.
Before he could even respond to Nejire, a knock sounded on the door, and his primary doctor whisked in seconds later with a clipboard of notes and a face dark with dread. Nothing needed to be said. Mirio had a feeling he knew what was about to happen.... He couldn't have her stay in for something like this.
"Say, Nejire, can you get us a few bottles of water from the cafeteria? Room-temperature tap water just isn't cutting it for me." A cheap excuse, but this was something he had to own up to and face on his own. His actions did this. No one should have to see what happened when bombshells began to truly fall. He only hoped he could still face his dear friend when she returns. After all, what doctor looks sick to his stomach bearing good news?
~
“Ano...” Nejire raised a finger in question but trailed off as her gaze followed the uptight physician and his flustered assistant who was hot on his heels.
Nejire blinked a few times before looking back to her friend. She held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity when it had only been a few seconds.
The tiny 'o' that was her mouth spread into its normal simper of wonder and happiness as she stood from Mirio's side, smoothing out her pleated skirt in a ladylike manner. She then gave the doctor and nurse a formal bow before randomly babbling.
“You should give him a few hairpins to hold down that cowlick!” She whispered in a not so quiet tone to the nurse, all while pointing out the older gentleman's aforementioned disheveled hair with a jerk of her thumb. “Mirio, I'm gonna get sparkling water for myself, I think I'll bring up some mineral water for you, m'kay~?” She held her hands behind her back as she made her leave with a knot in her stomach.
“Please don't sugarcoat anything. We're heroes, after all,” she said as the door closed behind her.
There was a few moments of silence after she left, followed by news that would shake heroism to its core. It was said so abruptly and in such a rushed voice he almost didn't follow what the doctor was saying. The bullets they'd just finished analysing had evolved; this was no longer anything like Tamaki's case. He went on to talk for a long time, about going into forensics and police work or some other branch of helping people that were steps down from heroics. But nothing registered for him, and at that point, his ears were ringing with key phrases that were reverberated much too strongly for anything else to stick.
'Permanently quirkless.'
'Lemillion's time to retire.'
'You can no longer be a hero.'
Mirio didn't know which was worse, the news itself or the fact that nurses had been talking about it where people could quite easily hear them.
Gossip was a way of life at this point, and unbeknownst to Mirio, his condition would probably soon be known far and wide by everyone.
~
Nejire hadn't the slightest idea of what would happen next. Everything was always changing in the world. Nothing was constant. Miracles were spontaneous; tragedies were more common still.
A cold feeling had settled over Nejire's heart as she walked along the sterile wards of the hospital, making it a little painful for her to breathe. It was a sharp pang in her chest that shook her, but she knew she couldn't express any inkling of fret. She mustn't.
Everybody expected them to be stalwart and undaunted; it was a farce if they were anything less.
This was no satire. It was not a show.
There was no stage to trip over and break a fall.
They were not actors.
“Please don'thate yourself....” She breathed while she slid herself into the nearest chair. Her legs trembled and her palms were clammy. She clutched the hem of her skirt, not caring about the wrinkles that would imprint over the fabric.
“This is out of anyone's control. It's not your fault, Togata....” Nejire drew a shaky sigh and she startled herself by shedding a few hot tears. She hesitated, bringing a hand to her eyes and was surprised to see the back of it streaked with tears.
Hadō Nejire never cried.
She couldn't remember a time when she last wept except for that time she had a tickle fight with Tamaki and Mirio where she was winning, but the two boys overpowered her and made her submit to a fit of laughter and tears.
That was such a great day over the summer, right before their third year at Yūei had begun.
“I...I'm sorry, Togata! I'm not a good friend.” She laughed, rubbing her eyes dry with her other hand. She wished Tamaki was here. Or Ryūkyū.
Nejire did not know how to cheer anyone up.
~
The doctor and nurse had already left him, the room becoming suffocatingly small as the conversation ran through his head on repeat.
His quirk was gone, the bullets made from Eri's blood had been brought to new heights, and he was practically their little experiment during that rescue. If he wasn't a hero, what was he? A boy with goals too high to reach. He'd been called as such before. His quirk wasn't useful in battle or rescue; he could never control it enough to be practical. He'd get himself killed before school ended. He heard so many things, but always laughed them off. He was like the sun, so many had told him.
But the sun was gone now, not just away from view, but completely stolen away. Mirio clenched his fist, reeling back and striking himself in the face. It wasn't strong, he didn't have enough strength to do more than leave the subtlest sign of a bruise. This was pathetic! He refused to wallow. But he needed something, an escape.
Without thinking, Mirio sprang up from the bed and started limping his way to the door, leaving the sterile prison and going off to find Nejire. He needed someone- something, to lean against as he came to terms with what happened. Nejire wasn't the perfect choice, but she was his friend, one of his best friends. He needed her. So he began looking around, not stopping for break.
"Oi, Nejireeee. Am I still getting water?" He called absently, hoping to find his friend soon.
~
“!!”
Nejire bolted up from her seat, almost knocking the chair and another one over in her wake. She hurriedly wiped her eyes, hoping to God her face wasn't blotchy and that her eyes were not puffy. She'd been so absorbed with her feelings that she'd completely forgotten about water for Mirio and herself.
She scurried out of the ward she'd wandered into and tried to retrace her steps down the white corridors without making a scene; she was taught better to never to run anywhere that wasn't a training ground or playground.
Her heart hammered inside her chest like an anvil when she heard Mirio's voice reverberate against the walls. She cursed herself for getting distracted. She didn't like it one bit. She thought too much about things. She had a good reason to be distracted now, though.
Well, not good for Mirio, what with him being out and about in his condition. It made Nejire roll her eyes so far back in her head that it hurt and she whimpered, holding her head all the while she searched for Mirio.
“Don't be stupid....” She mumbled. If she knew Mirio better than she thought she did, she'd assume that he was distraught, as anyone else would be.
Mirio worked harder than anybody she'd met, and he almost killed himself one too many times in attempt to exceed any and all expectations in regards to his double-edged sword of a quirk.
Nejire felt horrible about it all.
She couldn't think of anyone, not even her worst enemy, who deserved such an awful fate. To have everything taken from you, just like that.
It was disturbing to believe that they all lived in a time where quirks can be snuffed like flames on candles.
A sudden chill ran down her spine then, goosebumps prickling her fair skin.
It was a disgusting reality, terrifying even more so. And one of her closest friends was the first of many victims.
Mirio saved a precious life, even if it had meant ending another. Who could resent him for doing his job? This too was a reality, these sacrificial acts they committed every day, laying their lives on the line at any given moment for complete strangers.
Yes, they all aspired to do these things.
No matter what.
Mirio did everything and more that day. It wouldn't be like him to be angry. He wanted to help that little girl by any means necessary. He achieved the goal. He saved the child who only knew abuse and negligence.
Lemillion was an alias. Mirio himself was a hero. Surely he knew he'd be that little girl's hero for the rest of her life.
“Do it with a smile or don't do it at all, right?” She rounded a corner, hoping to run into Mirio so that she could pull him by the ear and drag him back to his room, even if it was the last place he'd rather be. Why were boys so complicated? She groaned to herself, petting her long hair as though it was an animal the way she cradled and caressed it.
And uncannily enough, Mirio was just around that very corner. What started as a smile turned into a more serious look. Realizing what she probably meant to do, Mirio raised a hand to stop her. It wasn't often he was something else besides Mister Sunshine, but considering what had just happened, he felt he deserved the time.
"Don't. Walk with me— let me enjoy some fresh air, okay?" A simple request. It wasn't as if Mirio was running away; he just needed a reprieve from that asphyxiating confinement to feel the sun on his skin and the wind through his recently cut hair. He needed something to remind him he was really alive, so it was a matter of whether or not she'd grant him the small mercy. He still had too much to think about and nowhere near enough time to do it. He hoped she'd stay with him through this, and maybe if he spoke aloud to himself, she'd end up chiming in like usual. Still, before getting ahead of himself he had to see if she'd even permit him to leave the ward.
Nejire had lurched to a complete stop before she could have potentially run into him and hit his bad side. She circled her arms frantically in a comical fashion, spinning on her heel in a full 360° turn before stomping with her left foot to regain balance.
Whew! That was too close. She looked Mirio up and down briefly and wondered how painful was it for him to actually move as he did.
Oh.
Was she acting like the others? Smothering Mirio and believing he was too frail for life itself? She pouted for a second before raising her own hand against his so that their palms were pressed together. She smiled up at him as she did so, and then closed her thumb around the side hand.
“Hand hug~!” Nejire's cheeks flushed with innocent euphoria, but her expression became crestfallen soon after and she averted her gaze as guilt paled her features.
“I couldn't find the cafeteria....This is SOO embarrassing,” she pouted again, kicking her feet like a hild would out of frustration. She blinked up at Mirio again, batting her lashes innocently.
She didn't pry and she didn't ask.
She didn't see the Mirio everybody else did. She was seeing a Mirio who needed to vent, who needed to escape sterilized confines and needed sunlight to color his face and warm his heart again.
He may be like the sun to many, but he was like a sunflower to Nejire. Tall, bright, and bending only on his own accord.
Right now he was wilting, but Nejire knew that he did need the fresh air. It wasn't healthy to stay cooped up every day.
“Tell me where to go, m'kay?” Her smile returned to her lively face, an indicative reassurance that she was on the same page as he was. “Hey hey, you can lean on me if you need to. I'm stronger than I look, you know~.” Nejire flexed her left arm to show off her bicep.
Mirio put his hand up in mock surrender, acting frightened of her super strength. Hell, if she was offering to help keep this big lug of a guy steady, then she could probably lift more than a lot of pro heroes. Still, it was relieving to have someone actually listen to him and give him what he wanted, opposed to something the doctors said would benefit him.
He didn't say anything just yet, almost as if he were trying to recite the lines he'd say before he got there. Maybe silence was best for now while Mirio lead them through the various hallways and gradually got them to the desired getaway.
The backdoor would give them at least a few minutes of truly fresh air. He didn't admit it, but the silence between them was deafening, especially when people would whisper behind their turned backs.
Yeah, this would probably be the biggest scoop for weeks to follow, to say the least. Mirio ignored it all and kept his casual smile plastered until he could press a hand against the metal door and push it open with all his might. All he needed was a few seconds, just enough to take in some sunshine before he was thrust back into the dark despair that was his room.
"Nejire..." The forlorn hero exhaled. "It's gone. Forever. The quirk I spent the last two years perfecting... It's never coming back." His tone wasn't necessarily hysterical; if anything, he sounded almost nonchalant about the entire thing. But there was no hiding what he really felt, not when his hand was gripping his female companion like she were a lifeline. It struck deep, and as it gets pulled out it'll likely make him bleed for weeks.
“...”
Not one to endure any sort of silence, Nejire tried her very best not to make the situation more awkward than it was. Her hand was lost inside Mirio's. It was a strange feeling, the substance of his flesh. She'd grown accustomed to his permeating antics and still expected her hand to pass through air. She felt the pulse of his heart, though. She felt the warmth and sweat collecting as the older boy clutched her like she was a buoy, and he was adrift in a sea of disease and maladies.
The smile on her face wavered slightly as she thought back to how she felt a mere 20 minutes ago before she heard Mirio's voice.
It didn't feel very good, physically being there for someone but unable to actually offer any form of consolation or comfort. She looked around the rehabilitation garden, wanting to see everything at once.
She inhaled deeply and a new set of goosebumps rose on her flesh as the smell of wet soil and fresh water filled her nostrils. The soft scent of flowers wafted in too, and she automatically moved to the sweet foliage.
Nejire loved flowers. Lilies were especially her favorite.
“....It's not coming back,” she heard Mirio say. She turned around to look at him again, fixing the mess that had become of her fringe.
“You're quirkless, not powerless, you know,” she simply put with a shrug of her shoulders. “Honestly, Togata, it could be worse, you know? A lot worse. I know that you know it. You could be dead.” Nejire turned their hands over so she was the one holding onto his instead. “And I'm not trying to make you feel guilty or anything, but I'm also not saying that this is the best thing ever...I hope you know that.” Nejire's eyes searched Mirio's, and she gave his hand a light squeeze before pulling hers away. A tiny smile formed on her lips as she went around a gurgling fountain to look at the flowers in that area.
Hell, she was bad with words.
Mirio had nodded at her attempt of giving counsel, not that he necessarily needed it. Yes, for a few minutes there he harbored nothing but despair for what was lost and the permanence, and there'd likely be times where he'd fall back into that despair, but in this moment, and for most time to come, he would shine as bright as he always did.
Man, he was already losing his touch if he made Nejire worry this much within a few seconds. He let go of her hand and slipped out of her grip, taking a few shaky steps forward and turning to face her. His expression wasn't that of despair, but he certainly didn't still bear that famous smile.
"When I met Chisaki, I was willing to let him go..." he began. "...every day since I've felt a tinge of loss. Should I have stopped him there? Was I right in abandoning that little girl? Would All Might have done differently? Would you or Tamaki have saved her?" It was a rough start, especially since he'd never genuinely spoken up about these suffocating regrets. The only one who could've guessed it were Sir and possibly Eraserhead. But that wasn't the point. He was telling all to Nejire here and now. Hands clenched into fists, something akin to shame mixed with a burning determination glowed in Mirio's eyes.
"Then we went to save her. And I did. Despite the odds, I saved her." He looked down at his fists then, as if using them to confirm the story he was giving. Maybe Mirio had been around Nejire for too long. He was taking forever telling a tale that likely wouldn't even have a point. "I went against them alone for almost fifteen minutes, and I was quirkless for a third of this fight. Our entire school careers we're asked what makes a hero a hero. Strength; fame; ranks; coolness. I never thought of any of those things. To me, a hero is a single thing: someone who protects others; the strong protecting the weak from those who want to disrupt peace." He gazed back at his friend, his customary smile finally adorning his exhausted visage. An arm stretched out, his fist inches away from Nejire.
"Without this quirk, I protected her. Without this quirk, I kept Chisaki and his goons at bay, and never let anyone else hurt her. I cannot afford to stop here. One was saved, another million are waiting for me. Tamaki, Sir, Midoriya, All Might, you— I want everyone to watch as I continue striving. I'll show the world the greatest hero can be someone without a quirk, that the only thing needed in a hero is the desire to protect."
Nejire had looked up from the flowers she'd been so engrossed by to revert her attention back towards Mirio. She let him speak, as she knew he would evidently do without her urgency or any other plea.
That just was not who Nejire was.
Whimsical and far-fetched as she was, she had never been a pusher.
She was a confidant.
She listened to what people had to say first.
Yes, she was invasive and impulsive most of the times, but she cared. She was always intrigued.
Sometimes, though, there just wasn't a need to say anything.
Sometimes all someone needed was to simply be heard.
And that was what Mirio needed.
And Nejire would be there for him, just as she would be there for Tamaki.
They were her best friends.
And she would do anything she could to help them. Even if all she could do was stay silent and watch when they paced or cried out with anguish.
Nejire had nothing but fierce admiration towards Mirio. Yet again, she felt herself swell with pride as she heard him out. It was much more satisfying to watch her friend's angst turn into self-realization. She nodded at every affirmation Mirio made and she even started imitating his movements, punching the air any time he balled his hands into fists, and she even grabbed his outstretched hand, which she didn't think he expected her to do, but she did anyway, beaming up at him with a dazzling incandescence that could almost rival his symbolic sunshine.
I'm sorry, Togata.“ Nejire's smile dimpled her cheeks as she tilted her head to better look at her tall friend. All the feelings she had earlier rushed back to her and when she tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall, it was her quivering lips that shattered her bubbly persona.
“I'm not good at this stuff, any of it.... I'm sorry I haven't been very supportive. Chicken Heart is a better friend than I am. But Togata, not all heroes wear capes. You are a hero. That little girl, Eri? She's always going to remember you as the hero who saved her life. Because of you, she can have a life, a new one— a happier one! You'll always be a hero to many. With or without a quirk. You've done what we couldn't, without one.”
She paused to let go of Mirio's hand before she held her own hands together behind her back like she always did, rocking to and fro on the tips of her toes.
“I'm sorry I haven't been a very good friend to you. Chicken Heart is a much better friend than I ever could be. But Togata, not all heroes wear capes. You are a hero. You didn't need the approval of anyone or any exam to be acknowledged. You just needed to realize it yourself, and you did.” Nejire rubbed one of her eyes with the back of her hand.
She didn't like to see her friends beat themselves up. Why was she so bad at being an emotional support? It made her feel numb. She was just like the other students have been saying behind her back: heartless.
~
Her apologies completely threw Mirio off, confusion clearly fogging his stare as he listened to her. How was she bad? It was only because of her stories and her mere presence that he was able to take this step right away.
In the darkest hour only she was there to help light him back up; who could ever think that to be the making of a bad friend? He hadn't the slightest, all he knew that it was the making of a hero to stop someone's tears, especially if that person is someone so close to you.
"You aren't a bad friend, who could even say that? You have a way of doing things that no one else does, but that doesn't mean they're bad ways of doing it. If anything, I'm lucky to have you as one of my best friends. The usual reactions to this sort of thing would've left me in a rut, but instead you wanted to kick me in the butt and send me flying into tomorrow!" Mirio meant every word of it, but admittedly his comical hopping around made it seem a little less serious.
Maybe he just wanted to make her smile and laugh; maybe he just couldn't feel as if he was standing still when a dear friend was hurting. Either way, when he finally regained composure, he reached out, offering his hand to Nejire once more.
"Thanks to you, Lemillion will stand again. That sounds like a pretty good friend to me, wouldn't you agree?"
Nejire seldom sobbed. She was grateful that her sorrow had not made her burst into hysterics or anything weird like that.
She was just not wired to have that range of emotional instability.
She fretted over Mirio and Tamaki so much without ever showing it. They were like family to her.
And you'd do anything for family.
She loved Mirio and Tamaki very much. They did and said dumb things, of course, but most boys are like that.
Nejire blinked back any more tears, rubbing away the rest with the back of her finger when Mirio gave her his outstretched hand. Without any hesitation, she reached for it as her trademark wily simper brightened her crestfallen features. There he was.
She knew that he would come back sooner than later. A wave of relief washed over her like mist, cooling her flustered visage.
And as tired as he looked, Nejire knew Mirio felt better than he had in weeks; emotionally and mentally, anyhow.
“Baka Mirio~!!”
She pretended to chastise him, but they both knew Nejire wasn't one with a temper.
“Being depressed isn't in your genes, you know? I know you know that I know you know~.” She dimpled up at him again and swung their joined hands like she was a child with her older sibling.
And then, she would surprise the reborn hero by throwing her arms around his neck, using her quirk to hover just a few inches off the ground just so Mirio wouldn't have to stoop to her level since she was a lot shorter than he was.
If what Mirio said was true, then Nejire couldn't be happier.
It was a hero's purpose to help and protect others, after all.
“You'll always be Lemillion to us all,” the heroine sang, tightening her embrace just a little.
Mirio did feel a lot warmer now than he had back in his room. She rested her head upon his shoulder with a sigh.
“Thank you for believing in me too.”
They'd be alright. They always came out of a fray with newfound resilience.
And they would always have each other, no matter what adversity came their way.
She knew he knew she knew he knew... Wait. What?
Sometimes Nejire still managed to catch Mirio off guard and leave him absolutely confounded and in a daze. What he did know was that she was back to normal, and he was getting there too.
There may have been times where one slipped, where they both fall, where nothing seems like it'll be the same, but here they are in a world shattered and put back together, in a situation that couldn't be more extreme in the worst ways. They were here, alive, making their way back to the top.
There were many reminders of what was lost, but Mirio wanted to make these so-called losses into a warrior's scars, things to brag about and show off with pride. So of course he'd start with boasting this pride to his family, to his little sister. "Say, Nejire, I want your opinion on something," he started just as he began to remove the top part of his hospital gown.
"A hero's cape is used to cover scared little kids, a hero's hands are used to reach those lost in the darkness, and a hero's front is a sign of willpower, a show that a scarred chest and stomach mean they'll never run away from a villain." The thin material of his hospital attire fell, revealing his formerly unblemished body now marred in gashes and stitched wounds still in the process of recovery.
It didn't need to be said: most of it would never fully heal. Mirio's body was marked forever.
But that wasn't the point he was wanting to make. Instead he turned his back to Nejire, showing the single brand that bore the greatest significance: the bullet wound gaping in his shoulder grotesquely before, already nearly healed over, and merely a grievous souvenir of a scar serving to be a terrible reminder.
"But I wonder..." The boy continued. "Should a hero's back be flawless, a show that tells the world he's never once retreated or turned away from crime? Or should a hero's back be the shield for the innocent, taking the blows that would otherwise kill a scared little girl?" It was clear what Mirio was asking. Should there be shame for turning away from the danger to help Eri, or should he see this scar as a tattoo of pride, showcasing that he had protected this little girl and smiled as he did?
The hug was brief, but the sentimentality was sempiternal. And even so, Nejire felt a helluva lot better than she had in a while.
Jeez, hugs really were impactful.
She started thinking about those twin babies that had been born prematurely and one of them was on the brink of death due to heart complications until the doctors had placed the healthier twin beside the incubated one and they had all watched as the older sister put a tiny arm around her little sister and almost immediately did the smaller baby's heart condition improved and color returned to her tiny body.
All because of a hug.
Nejire blinked at Mirio, wondering to herself which of them was the sick baby and who was the twin with the curative hug. She gave a mental shrug, a light blush tinting her porcelain cheeks; Nejire was just happy to have some sense of normalcy nestling in their topsy-turvy world, however close to normal it was to begin with.
“Ara~, Togata, don't tell me you're into exhibitionism now. Weirdo!” She was only teasing, of course, but she took a few steps back as Mirio had exposed most of his torso. It was hard not to observe his body when it was adorned with so many blemishes and scars. The deepest ones shined where his skin could not completely heal and it was different complexions altogether.
Your skin never was the same once you've damaged it.
Nejire's eyes wandered up and down her friend's marred physique, counting in her head the scars that she remembered Mirio attaining from mere training in school while he always nearly killed himself trying to hone his permeability. Her gaze fell upon his shoulder when he turned his back on her. The physical affliction was still in the process of healing as she noticed its pink rawness.
Nejire wondered if it hurt him at all. Some people didn't feel things where profound wounds had been after they've healed.
Did he hate it? Did he appreciate it? It was hard to tell when Mirio recounted the event once more.
She shared an exasperated look as he went on about courage and cowardice. She then gave him a wave of dismissal.
She cared little for things like flaws. If she thought they were cool, then that made somebody even more unique to her.
“Hey, hey, heyyyyy, listen Togata, I don't think there's a dictionary definition of a hero, you know?” Once again, Nejire held her hands behind her out of habit and she leaned forward around his side, tilting her head to look up at his face, her long hair almost spilling upon the ground.
“You're your own version of a hero. We all are. That's what makes us heroes! We bring something different to the table, you know?" The young heroine gave her friend one of her mischievous smiles, her baby blue eyes sparkling in a way that made it seem she knew something Togata didn't, which was almost always the case.
“But to answer your question.........” She pretended to think long and hard, tapping her cheek and humming pensively. “Mmmmmmmmm....Oh yeah, who gives a hoot! It's your scar, and it's your story. Be proud of who you are and what you represent!” She nodded fervently, strands of her blue hair getting in her face.
There's no definition of a hero. Its your story. Two sentences definitely stuck out to Mirio from Nejire's attempts in helping him.
The blonde looked up to the sky, moments seeming to last an eternity and forever passing him by several times. It was his story, but a story is made to make others feel something.
Hope. Fear. Joy. Sorrow.
A story was meant to move the masses, for better or for worse. In the end, the tugging and persuading of emotions was the reason stories became praiseworthy. And yet... Had those who have written the greatest stories know this? Did they think on what ways to move a person, or did they simply write with their own emotions and let the masses get swept away in their own waves?
It hit like a truck, and suddenly his questions seemed as silly as Nejire had pointed them out to be. A sudden laugh escaped him, and Mirio became uncertain as to whether it was from genuine amusement or if he'd adopted All Might's belief to laugh during a struggle. He didn't dwell on it. All that mattered was that she'd given him a few more answers, and with her help he was a few steps closer to becoming Lemillion once more.
"You aren't completely right, you know. It's been said time and time again, all great heroes do have something in common. That in itself seems definition enough." He started putting his shirt back on, straightening his back and standing straight as if pride had sorted him back out. "Their bodies move to help without them realizing it." The cloth brushed against his skin, brushing the scars and bruises as if reminding him that they'd never leave his body, like a canvas ripped to shreds and poked full of holes.
"Even so, I think great heroes can come from anything, so long as they never give up and inspire the people around them to find their own resolves. It's my story, right? The story of a problem child, a quirk destined for ruin and how he made it into a strength undeniable by the world, only for it all to come crumbling down as he lost it all." However damaged the canvas, a masterpiece can be painted across it, and in time, maybe the canvas itself will be what draws out the greatest emotions of all. "What do you say, Nejire? Wanna help me make the next chapter be about a quirkless hero surpassing himself and finding a new strength?" Mirio proposed, blinking at the other with hopeful eyes.
A good story was indeed what the world needed to tell and to recount for generations to come.
In a period of tragedy and despair, a good tale touched the hearts of the kind folk, the hopeful, the fearful, and the thoughtful.
Storytelling was almost as old as the world itself. It was timeless. It was fluid. It was powerful.
Nejire watched Mirio speak and actually hung on to his words. This was important to him. This was his character development! It was his epiphany moment! She couldn’t ruin it!
Audiences were lazy. If an artist has to make their audience work to figure out what they’ve done, then the piece was done for naught and was made in vain.
Vanity was not in Mirio’s makeup.
He was much too selfless for such pretenses; Mirio definitely wasn’t the showy type either.
Nejire thought a good story only needed a raw outlook. Nothing underwhelming or anything that was remotely fixed. Mirio didn’t have the best grades, so it was probably best that he didn’t do any writing.
Sometimes a pen wasn’t necessary to recount events.
Fresh memories were absolutely prime and invoked the most emotion.
She shrugged at Mirio when he told her she wasn’t always completely right. She even gave him an eye roll before her dreamy smile softened her features again.
“I thought you’d -never- ask, you know. I don’t care, I still think I’m right, you know~! But I only care if you do one of those things authors do when they say a series is a trilogy and then three books become six or there’s a spinoff series like Naruto Gaiden....” Nejire stepped up to Mirio, jabbing him in the sternum with a know-it-all finger.
“And don’t think I won’t be here to drag you and Chicken Heart out of trouble!” She poked him with every word she huffed.
Nejire’s feigned irritability was not the most convincing. She made sure Mirio held eye contact with her, though. Sometimes, the older boy had a habit of looking away when he said things he thought others did not want to hear. He should know better with his friend. Nejire was much too attentive to disregard things like that, no matter how minute.
“Hey hey, Togata, hey, are you still thirsty? I totally didn’t get a chance to get my sparkling water, you know~. Have you eaten? Are you hungry too? Let’s get something to eat!” She looped her arm around his bulky one, hugging it and looking up at him with her mischievous simper.
Mirio was thinking too much.
Nejire wanted him to relax for once, even for a little while.
She hoped with all her heart that he'd keep in mind that no matter what, they'd fight together, as the Big 3, just as they've always had.