this meeting was never going to turn out alright. —— he knew this, felt the unsettling atmosphere set in like thick, stuffy sheets around him : and yet he still smiled, still greeted, still conversed as if everything was alright. his body language spoke wonders, he never made an attempt to be cautious with their distance, never flexed his fingers as if to be ready to react, and yet he knew something off would happen. he knew this. maybe he had sunken beneath that layer of plastic frosting, whipped and pink and fake, the layer of her persona. these conversations, these eye glances, the shared looks, they weren’t real. he knew this as well.
and maybe he was dumb for going off on the thinnest string of hope imaginable, but something told him to hold off on what others most likely deem as the right thing to do. he wanted to stay for a while, he felt like he was on some kind of lead with her. maybe, he was convinced of…
❛ life… life is wonderful, i know that. ❜ his breathing pattern changes significantly : slow, even, patient, he knows just what to do when bleeding out. he would’ve snatched at her hand the moment he saw her take out the knife, seconds before she could even dream of pressing it against his skin. but he didn’t flinch nor change, he didn’t control her at all, she was free. pain can often than not be justified for a higher reason, to cower because of pain in the face of someone who can be saved is to be selfish. he knew this too. so he let himself feel it alone.
❛ my life has always been wonderful. i’m really grateful for the ways things have been : the good and the bad, for us too. —— is your life wonderful, toga - chan ? what do you think when you do these things ? why do you do the things you do ? ❜
` ♡ 。 In her head, a locket melody plays from her childhood. As she listens to him talk, her eyes sweep across from his face to the opened wound. The melody is gentle; accompanied by the sound of windchimes and a soft breeze with little bits of piano keys. She closes her eyes for a moment, just a moment, and takes in every word he says, the melody, & the choking tenderness of this all. The touch of silk there is to his behavior is almost foreign; unfamiliar. She’s never been approached with such sweetness other than her own. The kind of cookie-sweet that really gets your heart tha-thumping ! She smiles dreamily, almost mournfully as she puts more force on the knife.
‘ Kiri, kiri, kiri, kiri, kiri … ! ‘ she murmurs, sliding the knife in deeper. ‘ Mirio-kun… you’ve always been so kind to me. I love that about you. I love that you are so kind, no matter what ! But you know, Mirio-kun, words create lies. Pain can be trusted. ‘ She inhales deeply, taking in his words and pinpointing each syllable to find any kind of hidden meaning. What do you think when you do these things? Why do you do the things you do?
No one… no ones ever asked me that. Not even Dabi-kun or Twice… No one. Not even… mama or papa.
‘ I do the things I do because… ‘ she pauses, her eyes focusing on his blood prickling. ‘ Because… I love you so much… I love Deku-kun so much… I love Stain-sama so much… because… I love mama & papa so much . . . Is it wrong… is it wrong that the first thing I do when I meet someone new — was envisioned their death? When I saw either a friendly or an angry face… I often imagined it turning blue or purple… Whether their eyes were placid or clouded with emotion, I always imagined the life draining from them ever so slowly. But what I really liked imagining was their blood… ‘ the melody begins to hum louder. ‘ The thought of the blood flowing onto my clothes and staining my favorite white sweater… The blood falling into my fingertips and settling within the itsy bitsy creases of my palms… The blood… giving me a kind of warmth I was ultimately unfamiliar with. ‘
‘ Mirio-kun, ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always been a big empath. I always wanted to know what everyone was constantly thinking of. I always wanted to know what that ‘special-someone’ was thinking of most. I wish I just had the ability to peer inside someone and read all their emotions out on a table like my favorite fashion magazine. I wish I knew the answer to everything. I wish I knew the key to your heart. But… it’s much harder than that. I hate it when I don’t do something right, or something that makes you angry with me. Just seeing that harsh look on your face, why… it could make me cry! You wouldn’t want to see me cry, would you? You wouldn’t want to make a little girl cry, would you? ‘ she feels something sharp tinge at her heart, another unfamiliar feeling. Why are you making me feel this way? Don’t you see how much I love you?
‘ I’m sick of everyone leaving me, Mirio-kun. No matter how much I cried everyone always left in the end. And I’m sure, that you too, will leave me after this. Even after how my heart has opened up like silk to you. Even after all this love I’m sharing with you, love in places I haven’t even touched. Mirio-kun… if I don’t keep you in my blood, you’ll just become like all the others. You’ll leave me. I don’t want to be left alone. I don’t want to be left alone, Mirio-kun! ‘ She hears the piano keys begin to distort, the windchimes falling and the soft breeze blowing into a storm. She frowns deeply. ‘ Look what you’ve done, Mirio-kun! You’re going to m-make me cry! Now my mascara’s gonna get everywhere…. ‘ she uses a sweatered hand to wipe her eyes, yanking the knife out of his leg. ‘ I hate it… I hate this… because no matter what, you’re gonna leave… You’re gonna leave no matter how hard I cry! Don’t you realize what I’m doing? My intentions are innocent… I pinky-promise! All I ever wanted was to have someone stay with me, to have someone love me or at least treat me like a friend… No matter how much I give, no matter how much I love, it’s all useless! USELESS, USELESS, USELESS! Waaaah…. I hate it, I HATE it so much! I just wanted to be together, together forever! You don’t even… even understand how much I hate myself! I hate my body! I want to be someone else! I don’t want to live like this anymore! I want to love you… ‘ She uses her sweater to wipe her nose, lifting the knife back into the air, a threat to strike again.
‘ I WANT TO BE YOU, MIRIO-KUN … ! ‘
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