[DMs between Iida Tenya and Midoriya Izuku]
Iida Tenya
I just saw the announcement on your official Twitter. May I ask what has led to this leave of absence? You are someone I care very much about, and I find myself concerned. I understand if you do not wish to speak to me about it. The last few days have just been incredibly worrying.
In France news, my plan is still to fly back to Japan on Friday! Mina and Yuuga have both told me they are planning to return to Japan (long-term, this time) sometime within the next couple of months. Tsuyu and Kyouka are returning soon, as well, so perhaps, if everything lines up, we could arrange a class reunion, of sorts!
Wow, Izuku is a horrible friend. He has literally ghosted almost every single one of his friends for the past few days, including Tenya, who has been sending him regular France updates the entire time he’s been there.
Of course, he’s been justifying it to himself. Tenya’s in France, he’s busy spending time with Yuuga and Mina and seeing the sights over there, and Izuku hasn’t wanted to… get in the way of that. Unloading his own issues on Tenya… His friend should be able to enjoy his trip, not get dragged back to Japan because Izuku can’t manage himself.
Pointless, though, because it seems Tenya is worried anyways. He’s not coming back to Japan any sooner than he had originally been planning, thankfully, but still…
He knows exactly how much energy worrying takes out of someone. And Tenya’s spent the last few days worrying about Izuku.
The thought that he’s done this, that he’s been the cause of more hurt for his friends… Something rancid curls up in his gut, sucking all the warmth out of his limbs.
It must show on his face, because Eri reaches over and taps his arm. She has a speech assigned for one of her classes, so she had dragged him and Yamada, both experienced public speakers, over to the dining table to help her with it. Bedtime is drawing closer, but they’re still at it, after having taken a quick break for Eri to get some water, which is when Izuku had checked his phone.
“Hey, you okay?” she asks as she sits down. “You look a little… hm. Sad?”
He shrugs and pulls up a soft smile. “Just thinking.”
“Must be heavy thoughts,” Yamada says, and Izuku glances over at him. Yamada’s hair is pulled back and a fast and loose braid, done when Eri asked for help so that it wouldn’t be constantly falling in his face. Izuku’s own bangs are long enough they fall in his eyes, which means at some point, he’s going to have to bust the headbands out.
He swallows and nods. “Yeah.”
They must get the hint, because they leave it alone, moving back onto Eri’s speech, which they bury themselves in for the next fifteen minutes until Shouta shuffles into the dining room and begins shooing them off towards bed. After years of living on his own, it’s a little odd having someone else enforcing quiet hours, but the domesticity and quiet moments of affection—Eri hugging him before she runs upstairs, Shouta’s brief but firm shoulder touches, Yamada’s enthusiastic sidehug—they ease an ache in his chest he had forgotten about, fill a space he hadn’t realized was empty.
Even with their ready and easy affection, there’s something cold lingering in his chest, something that grows as he slips into his room. With the absence of other people, there’s nothing to distract him (unless he goes and searches out a distraction, but… he’s not going to do that).
Now, objectively, he knows what to do next: talk to Tenya. He can’t do that over text… As long as he keeps his voice down, he’ll probably be fine, calling him…
So, yes, he knows what to do. Does that mean it’s easy? No, absolutely not.
…Hm. Maybe it’ll be easier if… Actually, asking Tenya to call may be better? Because then Izuku doesn’t have to actually hit the green button, and Tenya can make it happen whenever it fits best in his schedule.
Midoriya Izuku
Call me when you have the time? It’s probably going to be a long conversation.
What he isn’t expecting is to be seeing Tenya’s contact name pop up five seconds later, Izuku’s phone vibrating in his hand.
With a sigh (he had thought he would have a little more time to think about things), he presses the ‘accept call’ button and holds his phone up to his ear.
“Hey…” Wow, that’s lackluster.
“Hello, Izuku. It’s good to hear from you.”
That’s Tenya’s standard tone, if… There’s an undertone to it, something that causes Izuku’s heart to shrivel up inside his chest. Tenya’s formal, yes, but… he’s never reserved about his affection, not with his closest friends, not like this.
“Uh, yeah, it’s, uh… yeah,” he replies, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth. “Uh. Hang on. Just…” Inhale, one deep breath, fill his lungs as much as they’ll fill, and exhale, then inhale again.
“I’m sorry,” he says, shoving the words past his teeth. “I’m sorry, for—for just. Going silent. And—and everything. I’m just… I’m sorry. You deserve better than to be treated the way I’ve been treating you.”
“The—pardon, what do you mean by… the way you’ve been treating me?”
He… How is he supposed to even begin to explain this? He opens his mouth, but his words are all dried up, not a single one rising to his tongue.
“I…” He swallows. “I just… You deserve better. I’m sorry.”
It takes every ounce of his self-control not to hang up right then.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Tenya replies, worry coloring his voice. “Please help me understand?”
‘Please help me understand’, the magic words. They’re not magic enough to suddenly unlock Izuku’s brain, to let every thought he’s thinking flow out, but they have him hooked in some way he’s currently hard-pressed to explain.
“I haven’t even called you,” he whispers. “I-I, I just, I… just vanished. Didn’t even say anything to you.”
“Izuku, I—” Tenya begins, and then pauses. Izuku can hear his sigh. “Do I wish you had said… anything to me, in the past few days? Yes. I was very worried. But you don’t… you don’t need to feel an obligation to tell me anything you don’t want to, or… You just… you don’t need to feel obligated to talk to me.”
“I should’ve, though,” Izuku replies, shaking his head though Tenya can’t see him. “I—not, not out of… of obligation, but, but because you’re my friend.”
“You… are of course free to talk to me about anything. I am here for you… although I am in France, at the moment.”
Izuku snorts. “It’s… you’ll be back in Japan on… Saturday, right? Since your flight is on Friday for you…”
“Yes, I will be. Would you like to meet up then?”
“That sounds nice,” Izuku agrees. “Uh, anyways… you’re probably, uh, curious about the… leave of absence.”
“I will admit, I am incredibly intrigued, but please don’t feel any obligation to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with telling me.”
“Tenya, you’re my best friend,” and, okay, that’s… Tenya’s always been one of Izuku’s best friends—the ‘you’re my best friend’ has always been for Ochako, but, there’s really not time to analyze that, not while he’s on the phone.
“I—thank you? You’re one of my best friends, as well.”
Izuku sighs, shaking his head. “The point being, I… should tell you. I… I think I want to tell you, and you’ll probably find out anyways, so it’s best I tell you now…”
“Whatever, and whenever, you’re comfortable. I’m listening.”
He finds himself sighing again, taking a deep breath and biting his lip at the zenith of the breath.
“I tried to kill myself on Thursday,” he says, soft, like that somehow will gentle the blow of telling Tenya this. “That’s why I’m taking a leave of absence.”
For a moment, he thinks Tenya will not say anything, thinks that Tenya has hung up, because the line is dead silent.
That silence does not last forever.
“E-excuse me? You… you tried to what?”
“Tried to kill myself,” he replies. “Almost overdosed on my own fucking pain meds. I—I didn’t, I… I called someone… but… yeah.”
“You… almost committed suicide,” Tenya says, cautious, speaking the words like he’s trying to convince himself they’re fact. And maybe he is—maybe he cannot reconcile the suicidally reckless hero Izuku has been with the reality of just plain old suicidal Izuku.
“Yes,” he replies, nodding. “I almost committed suicide.”
“I-I-I’m sorry, I just—I need a moment, I…”
Izuku sighs, scooting backwards in bed so he can lean against the headboard, because what little amount of energy he had seems to have seeped out of his body. “I know everyone’s been waiting for me to drop dead because of hero work, but are you really that surprised about me being suicidal?”
“Izuku,” Tenya says his name with… too much force. “Is… Is that… I… I can assure you, I have not just been waiting for you to drop dead!”
“Everyone has been.” Izuku shrugs. “I know what I’m like. It’s okay. I’m not—that’s just—I know how I am.”
“I haven’t been waiting for you to drop dead,” Tenya repeats. “I… Yes, I have been… incredibly concerned for you, and worried that… that one of these days, you’d find an enemy you could not win against, but… I haven’t been waiting for you to die, and I’m sorry that I gave you that impression.”
“I-It’s okay,” Izuku replies. “I…” He wants to accuse Tenya of lying, but he can’t, because if there’s one thing Tenya isn’t, it’s a liar, unlike Izuku.
(Tenya has attempted murder, before, but he’s honest about it, at least.)
“I know that I haven’t been… accepting help, or, I just… I know… It… It has to be hard, being friends with someone who won’t accept help, so I won’t… I won’t blame you.”
“Izuku…” Tenya sighs. “Just because someone won’t accept help the way you think they should accept it doesn’t mean that you rescind the offer. And… speaking of help. Have you… are you getting it?”
He nods, and then remembers that this is a phone conversation. “Y-yeah. I… had my first therapy appointment, yesterday. And—and I called Shouta, the- the morning I—yeah. He… picked me up, and I’ve been… I’ve been staying with him and his family, so… So I’m not… I’m not on my own.”
“That is very good to hear. I’m… glad you’re staying with someone, especially someone like them. I… hope it’ll be good for you.”
“It has been. It will be,” he replies. “I… I was really isolated. It’s been… interesting, readjusting to living with other people.”
“Interesting how?” Tenya asks, picking up the easy subject change and taking it. That leaves Izuku free to talk about the last few days, to talk about Eri and Shouta and Yamada, and about what it’s like bumping into Yamada when they’re both up in the early hours of the morning, about what it’s like getting ready for the day alongside three other people, and about what it’s like having three people pushing and prodding him into taking care of himself.
Sometimes it’s irritating, like this morning, when Eri had asked, in the wrong tone of voice and one too many times, what he was thinking of having for lunch, and he had snapped at her. The guilt still curdles in his gut, even twelve hours after the incident, even though he had apologized immediately after.
It’s so easy to talk to Tenya. After getting past the awkward first few minutes, Izuku finds the words falling out of his mouth, his train of thought flowing, unbroken, from Eri to Shouta and Yamada to dinner with Hanta and his appointment with Mei and his upcoming coffee meetup with Eijirou and Hanta. Tenya listens, responds, and it feels… it feels like they’re several years younger, like several years of strained relations and downwards spiralling are suddenly not there.
(Of course, they’re still there, evident in some of the pauses, some of the topics, some of the things they both say, but they’re talking, speaking, more words coming out of Izuku’s mouth than there have been at any point in the last few months.)
At one point, he whispers: “I almost called you, that morning. To—to say goodbye. I just… I didn’t want to put you through that, I didn’t want to make you the last person who spoke to me before I died.”
“I… I’m glad you called someone,” Tenya replies to that.
Later in the conversation, towards the end of it, Tenya says something that halts Izuku in his tracks.
“I… earlier, you said… you said everyone’s been waiting for you to drop dead, but… that’s not true. I was… This is what I’ve been waiting for. I was waiting for you to come back to me. I’m… sorry I didn’t approach first, I just… I knew that wouldn’t work. You were… you were so determinedly destroying yourself, Izuku, and… even this, it feels a little bit like a dream.”
“I… I’m sorry,” the apology feels bitter on his tongue, the same lie he’s told day after day, week after week, month after month. It falls out of his mouth on automatic, and he can almost hear Ochako’s last reply to him. “I am sorry, and I… I’m… I’m going to change, okay? I don’t… I don’t want to keep putting you through that.”
“You need to change for yourself, not me.”
“Well, my therapist says I have identity issues that stem from defining myself only by the people around me, so, well, that’s something I’ll be working on, too, I guess.” The words are spoken, quip-like, before he can think twice.
Tenya huffs, and Izuku can just imagine him shaking his head. “I… I’m glad to hear that. And… I am also so very glad that you are still alive.”
“Everyone’s been saying that to me, lately.”
“Well, maybe if we say it enough, you’ll believe it.”
Izuku snorts, shaking his head, warmth fizzing in his chest, spreading throughout his body, all the way to the tips of his toes and the ends of his fingers. “Maybe so. And, uh, Tenya? You… don’t have to apologize. You… you did approach me first, in a way. After everything, you’re… still here.”
It’s quiet, and when Tenya replies, his voice is soft and filled with a warmth Izuku shies away from naming.
“You’re my best friend, Izuku,” he says. “I will always, always stand beside you, for as long as you want and need me.”
Prior to this moment, Izuku had been on a hot streak for not crying. He hadn’t once cried during this whole phone call, but… but that. Hearing that. It stabs him, right in his heart, bypassing every emotional shield and striking so deep as to render him unable to breathe. A whine escapes his throat as tears well up, hot and stinging, and his chest aches. If he had more than one hand, then he would be grabbing his chest, grabbing his shirt right over the sternum. But he only has one arm, so he settles for curling forward, curling around the ache in his heart.
Tenya’s quiet, murmuring soft, sweet phrases as Izuku cries himself out. It doesn’t take long—he’s been… He’s been crying quite a bit, lately, and his seemingly-endless supply might just be running dry.
“Thank you,” he whispers, as soon as he can speak. “For—for everything.”
“Of course,” Tenya replies. “Now—I’m sorry, but I think we need to end our conversation for now. We’ve been talking for a very long time, so it’s probably getting quite late there, and I would feel bad if I were the cause of you missing sleep.”
“I can sleep in,” Izuku replies. “I’m sure Shouta won’t kill me for one day of sleeping a little longer in the morning.”
“I sure hope he won’t. I would have to have some very stern words with him if that were the case.”
“Stern words?” Izuku asks, raising an eyebrow. “Hm. Yes. Sure. If you say so.”
“I am well past my murder attempt days, Izuku.”
“Yeah—they’re not attempts, these days, they’re successes.” With such a perfect setup, how could he resist? Tenya groans, and Izuku feels a grin spread itself over his face.
“Anyways, you need your sleep, and I… do have some things I was planning on doing today. It has been… very good to hear from you, and I have very much enjoyed our conversation.”
“I’m glad I called,” Izuku replies. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you. I hope you sleep well. And, uh. I… know I don’t say if often, but… I love you. I love you very much. I am very glad to have you in my life, no matter what.”
“I love you too,” Izuku replies, his eyes beginning to water again.
“Goodnight, Izuku. Sleep well.”
“Uh, yeah, bye, Tenya,” Izuku replies. He hangs up and—oh. They. They’d been on the phone for over two hours. It’s now almost midnight, which… oops?
He plugs his phone in before standing up and walking to the door to flip the light off. The room goes dark, and Izuku finds his way back to the bed by feel, and slides into it, curling up beneath the covers. He’s been on a good streak lately, with regards to things like nightmares. He hasn’t had any terrible ones, recently, and has actually been sleeping well, to his shock and awe.
Hopefully, the nightmares will continue to stay… manageable.
(As he lays in bed, curled up, on his left side, his good side, he tries and fails to shove down the hope that he will have a specific kind of dream. It’s been too long, way too long, and he tries to think of Tenya, of Tenya and Shouta and Eri and Eijirou and Hanta and Yamada and—and everyone, and not of…)
(No. He’s not thinking of that.)
He falls asleep, thoughts of the people who have helped him running through his head.