You were the last one to get onto the bus due to your tendency to hang back behind everybody - a habit born from your desire to blend in with the background, to get through your days unnoticed. A habit that had, much to your chagrin, proven to be nothing but a double edged sword lately. You felt comfortable with the lack of attention on your person, but it brought with it the inability to reach out and make friends, which was lonely.
So very lonely.
So, you decided today was the day.
You’d search for the courage inside of yourself and bridge the gap between you and your classmates, try to replace your loneliness with friendship. You walked down the aisle, eyes scanning the area nervously for a seat, a friendly face, a welcoming smile, anything.
Unfortunately, the only vacant seats were either alone at the back of the bus, or near that angry, explosion boy, whose face was far from friendly, downturned lips far from welcoming. Deflating, you decided to go for the lesser of two evils - you’d rather be alone than sit next to that - but as you got closer, you spotted something to the left of you. There was a seat free next to that kid with the green hair - you’d forgotten his name, too lost in your own world you had been - but you found your courage, looking at that freckled face.
“Mind if I sit here?” you asked quietly, slowing to a stop beside him.
His head swivelled at the sound of your voice, his response catching in his throat the moment he looked at your face. There was an awkward silence - not counting the chatter of everyone else conversing around you - and the longer it dragged, the more confidence you began to lose. You were about to apologise and move elsewhere, but then he snapped out of it, cheeks pinking slightly.
“Ah, y-yeah, of course, yeah, g-go right ahead,” he said in a rush, gesturing towards the seat with a wave of his hand.
“Thanks,” you breathed in relief, throwing yourself down onto the seat, boneless. There was more silence between you, and once the bus started moving, you looked at him from the corner of your eye, wanting to break it, wanting to bridge that gap. “I’m (Name) (Surname), by the way.”
His eyes snapped to yours, then averted nervously to a spot in front of you. “I-I’m Izuku,” he said shyly, his voice changing in pitch midway through his name. “Izuku Midoriya.”
You smiled at him, finding comfort in the fact that he was just as nervous as you.
