#soulestring

Midoriya chanced a look at him, bracing his slung arm against his chest. His heart ached at the solemn look that was cast over his friend’s usually cheery face. Though he hadn’t witnessed their fight, Midoriya had overheard a hushed conversation between Fat Gum and Suneater and filled in the blanks from that. It wasn’t as if Kirishima had failed, far from it - but it was the first time he’d been pushed himself beyond his limits, something Midoriya had a lot of experience with.

They walked a few blocks in silence before Kirishima spoke up.

“Midoriya, I … I wasn’t good enough.”

Midoriya breathed in sharply, brow knit. Kirishima continued.

“I … Rappa, he broke through my unbreakable form with his first hit. I was basically out for the count from the beginning of the fight.” Kirishima paused, looking pained as he took stock of his thoughts. “Fat Gum protected me. I was barely able to muster enough power to take another hit, and I .. I don’t even remember it.”

Kirishima stopped walking, eyes cast down at his bandaged hands.

“Fat Gum told me later that the enemy had praised me, called me a man, but …”

Kirishima’a breath hitched, a quiet sound. Midoriya could see shine in his eyes when he turned to face him, expression open and hurt.

“I was far from that! I was a liability to Fat Gum. He could’ve died and I would’ve been helpless to save him -” he was gushing now, tears falling freely.

Midoriya stepped towards him, reaching out slowly to brush an errant tear from his cheek. Kirishima hiccuped, mildly startled by the contact.

“Kirishima … Fat Gum, Rappa - they were both right. You weren’t a liability, you saved his life. Fat Gum would have died if you weren’t there to protect him.”

Kirishima looked at him quizzically.

“How do you …?”

Midoriya looked sheepish.

“I overheard him talking to Amajiki about it …”

Realization dawned on Kirishima’s face. Midoriya sighed and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“I wish … I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” He paused, face starting to warm from the honestly of his own words. “The way we all see you,” he tacked on nervously.

Embarrassed by his own earnestness, he started to pull his hand away. Kirishima grabbed it before he could completely retreat, those sharp red eyes wide.

“Midoriya ..”

He swallowed.

“Do you really mean that?”

God, looking into Kirishima’s open and shining honest face was like staring into the sun. Midoriya could only nod, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to speak. Kirishima broke into a wide grin, pulling him to his chest and clasping him tightly against it, one hand braced in Midoriya’s wild curls and the other around his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Kirishima whispered.

Midoriya breathed in deeply. Beneath the sanitized hospital scent that lingered, he could smell Kirishima’s familiar scent and his heart melted. Slowly, he returned the hug, wrapping his free arm around him and clutching at his lower back. The taller boy hiccupped into the embrace, and Midoriya sighed.