The train heading home was delayed, but I made it here eventually, and safely. But now it's already dark out. I just want to sleep… This lethargy is killing me.
I click my phone on to see if I got any texts while walking from the station. There's some from Mina and Toru - gossiping over a hot guy 'they just noticed' in one of the other classrooms. Vaguely looking through the rest of the windows, it looks like no one else sent me a message. That's to be expected these days... Though I wish he'd at least send me one. Maybe I can be the one to start after-school conversations.
My thumb scrolls through my contacts, but accidentally swipes the window closed. Maybe that's a sign that I should just go to sleep. I flop down onto my bed and kick off my socks, letting my phone bounce beside me as I slip off my jacket and skirt. There's not enough fuel in my tank to get dressed in pajamas, so I don't bother trying to reach for them. My eyes begin to haze, and they involuntarily shut close. I guess I'll be sleeping in this awkward pose tonight.
The smooth surface of glass slides against the skin of my fingers. Not this again. I need sleep. My thumb scrapes a familiar pattern on its own. An audible 'click' confirms that it activated what it needed to. One of my eyelids winks open, and the blurry vision of my phone's main menu shines brightly into my iris. I need to stop doing this. Three swipes to the left, a click here, a press there, a drop-down menu, and... There it is again. I should be sleeping. But instead I'm doing what I've been doing for the past four nights in a row: staring into a picture that shouldn't be on my phone.
To no one else's knowledge, I had saved this photo onto one of my private image board accounts. Something in me told me to upload it. Though I had nearly forgotten about this site since I had stopped storing images into it for over a year, I somehow remembered it just for this photo's sake. And seconds after I had saved it: we were called into the principal's office.
Now the photo feels taboo just to own. And even worse when I look at it. What am I talking about? Of course this is taboo. What would my friends think if they found out that I still had this? What would my teachers? What would Midoriya?
I bring the phone closer to my vision and hide myself beneath a blanket. It's something I really shouldn't have, and yet I treasure it. It's something I really shouldn't look at, yet I can't look away.
My eyes adjust to the dark-brightened screen and I see… Midoriya and I staring into each other's eyes. Our hands are placed against one another. The beautiful backdrop of the setting sun marks the time of this memory. Gazing closely, you can see a tired wrinkle in one of my eyes, from when I laughed so hard that I ended up crying - it was at one of his really lame jokes. They weren't funny, but the fact that he kept saying them so confidently was just too much for me. The top two buttons of his button-up black, sleeved shirt are unhooked - the first was from when I dared him to eat a spicy pepper off of one of my plates, the second from when he felt sick from one of the VR attractions. Gaze closer, and you can see that there's a small, almost impossible to tell, discoloration on the right leg of his dress pants - an ice cream stain from when we had that ice cream eating contest. Neither of us won that contest, and neither of us could move for a half-hour. On the ground beside my feet, there's a crushed-up, white can. It was the soda he drank right after our last try in that zombie game. He had tried to crumple it up and throw it into the bin, but he missed so many times. I bet him that I could throw it in there on my first try. I actually threw it behind the bin by accident, but from his angle: he saw it go in. He was cheering so hard for me that I couldn't bring myself to say that I missed too. And the crumpled thing followed us, blown by the wind, all the way up to that bench - as if to haunt me for lying.
There's a lot more details I could probably point out in this image. I've seen it more times than I care to mention. I've gazed and stared and studied it for so long that I should be ashamed of myself. And I am ashamed of myself. I have an unhealthy addiction to this picture, there's no denying that. And whenever I try to deny it, I end up staring into it once again. I feel as if I can't help myself - or maybe I can, but it feels as if I wouldn't ever want help from this problem.
Is there anything to help? Is this really a problem? After all, I don't find anything wrong with this picture… Midoriya and I look amazing as a pair. And not just on the stunning-to-see surface. But also with the concept behind it - the shared story between the individual subjects of this scene.
Midoriya Izuku, and Asui Tsuyu, classmates of a prestigious school, who had never given each other much notice. The few times they were paired together, they worked well together. And as time went on, and they grew closer through a series of dramatic circumstances, they started to notice each other - in times they're together, and in the moments they're apart. They noticed the way they spoke to one another - how different it was, how familiar it was. They recognized how each of them built the other up - complementing in what they excelled in, supporting in what they lacked. They noticed how, during their date and afterwards, they repeatedly shattered each other's facades - finding the true persons beneath the everyday speeches and smiles. Every event, every item, every word between them led towards a single, obvious conclusion that neither of them had ever realized: the two were perfect for each other.
If they had only noticed this sooner, then maybe… No, they knew it now. On this bench, in front of each other. This moment, this opportunity, was their chance to take hold of something they had been missing in their lives. With their hands pressed together, and their eyes falling deep into each other's gazes… they could admit to themselves, to each other, that… that…
I'm pathetic. Even though I've done this several times already, I still can't believe how low I go, and how much lower I go with every turn at this activity. I make up silly stories that lead up to this scene, and imagine ridiculous scenarios of what would happen soon afterwards. It's what middle schoolers do with their favorite shows and comics, except I'm getting too old for this fantasizing - and the people in this photo are very real, not belonging to some inconsequential fictions. I'm one of these people, for crying out loud! And the other one is a great friend of mine!
I'm worse than pathetic, for throwing someone else into my childish imaginations behind their back. I'm perverse, for preferring this fantasy every night rather than accepting the reality in front of me every day.
Except… this isn't entirely fantasy, is it? Even though this photo is taken completely out of context, the 'imagined 'context actually does exist. Midoriya and I have worked very well together when we were paired for assignments. He and I have started to notice each other more since our date. He and I do complement and support each other. The only thing false in this photograph, and in my imaginations, is the true relationship between us.
Midoriya and I are just friends. And we're perfectly fine with that. At least, I am.
Maybe, somewhere deep, deep down, me wanting something more between us is really how I feel. But I don't show it outwardly, nor do I feel it well up inside me. And when I see him in person, I don't express or think this at all. My heart doesn't skip a beat when I'm next to him. My heart doesn't wrench when Ochaco makes him blush. My heart doesn't feel empty knowing that we're nothing more than friends. It's content. I'm content.
But the possibility is still there, no matter how I feel towards it. It slaps me hard in the face whenever I look at this image. Taboo, scandalous, forbidden, fictional, delusional - whatever you claim the idea to be, it is a very real possibility. It's tangible, obtainable, and open. All I have to do is reach out for it.
Midoriya's single. I have a chance.
But why should I take it if I don't care to hold it?
I mean, yes, we'd be great for each other. Midoriya needs someone with common sense to balance out his extremes. And I'd benefit a lot from being with someone so charismatic. But he and I honestly aren't looking at each other to fill in those roles. We're friends. Close friends. Maybe, as time goes on, we'll be best friends. I can see that. And I don't need anything closer than that.
The Midoriya in this picture, the me in this picture, are completely different than the two out here in reality. We don't have these kind of feelings for each other. Regardless of my constant imaginations and fascination with the false scenario of this photo - I don't actually want to act it out in my life. And I doubt Midoriya would actively want to either. We have our own lives and dreams we're trying to reach - and they don't require us tying an optional knot between us.
My daydreams are all just pretend. They're just ideas I'm fascinated with right now. They'll come and go eventually. Even if they're heavily inspired by reality, there's no need for it to be the other way around.
It shouldn't matter so much that the possibility exists. Millions of others do too. Millions of others I never took, and have no regrets over it. This particular one doesn't need special attention. It doesn't need space in my mind to think over it - nor time in my life to worry over it.
And yet I do. Every night I do. With this photo in hand, saved and locked away, I remind myself again and again that the chance was right there in front of me - and that it's still within reach.
Even though I hate myself for doing it, I can't help but put myself through this again and again, tonight, tomorrow night, and as many nights it takes… because…
It's such a beautiful lie.