IzuOcha Week 2017: Day 6

Warnings: Anxiety, depression and mentions of suicide

Cross Your Heart, And Mine

SevenRenny

She'd always take the train to and from home. Her parents were good providers, but they couldn't keep it up for long. Money didn't grow on trees, or else Ochaco wouldn't be penny-pinching and depriving herself of simple items she did not need but would like to have. Stacking boxes and packaged goods at the back of a store wasn't an exciting job, but it was better than nothing, right? Yes. Work hard, get paid just enough to keep her alive for another day, sleep, wake up, go to school, get out, rinse and repeat. One day older. One day closer to death. One day, two, three, then four, then the numbers titter off the edge. UA was her future destination, but, for now, she had to juggle school life and work and still somehow have time to take care of her personal needs – she would sometimes forget that last bit.

The railway station was usually quiet when she got off to go home. The smell of grass was always refreshing after a ride in that noisy tin can. Falling asleep during a ride hadn't been a good idea and it only left her stumbling out with the need to vomit. Never again. Lesson well learned.

Hugging her bag to her chest, her body lightly swaying with the train's movements, she sighed with disappointment. She wanted to get home; but she knew it wouldn't do her any good. It wouldn't make this empty feeling within her go away. She'd panicked during work again. Over what? She wasn't sure, or she just couldn't remember.

Stepping off the train, neck still glistening with sweat, she just wanted to get home, clean, and maybe get some rest. The familiar bam-bam-bam of the brutal vehicles at the construction site was something she'd gotten used to. The locals had provided her family with a place to stay while her mother and father helped with construction. Her father's business wasn't doing too well, often risking too much and earning too little.

Helping the locals here was – according to her father – at least productive. They needed a handy man, and he was a useful one. She wanted to help as well. She really did. But they knew her too well. They knew if she started, she wouldn't stop, even if she was ready to crumble. She was one to push herself beyond her limits. They knew that; they also knew she was a teenage girl, with hopes and dreams of her own. They couldn't tie her down with them. Just because they were having it rough, didn't mean she had too as well.

She would help them later. Right now, she had to finish school, pass UA's exam, attend that school as well, and then maybe start her career as a Hero. It was a stressful but rewarding job, and the salary would be more than enough for her and her parents.

She'd get there, eventually.

It was hard keeping her grades up when stress took over. Her anxiety attacks were usually during work hours, but sometimes, she would suppress them just long enough to finish the job. Her mind was in constant overdrive to keep up with her hectic schedule.

"You okay there, kiddo?" her father asked during dinner.

She blinked. "Eh?" Realizing she had almost dropped face-down into her dinner bowl, Ochaco laughed it off. "Oh, fine, fine!"

Her father put down his rice bowl, his eyes examining her, a glint of concern reflecting in those brown eyes. "Ochaco," he sighed lightly, "have you been getting much sleep lately?"

"Y – Yeah! Of course!" Not.

He looked at her sadly. "You been working too hard again? You know–"

"Daddy–"

"–it's okay to be a kid once in a while."

Ochaco looked down embarrassingly. "I know, but…"

"You're still young. Let us do the heavy work for now, alright?"

No, it wasn't alright. It wasn't fair. They were already working so hard; they didn't need her leeching off of them. They had enough to worry about already. She hadn't told them how horrible she felt sometimes, but it was clear they were suspicious of it and were trying to talk her into quitting her job or, at least, talking to a professional for help. Professionals weren't free; she knew that much.

So she settled with pretending nothing was wrong. Yes. She could just… pretend. Pretend to be happy. Fake it till you make it.

It was only temporary, after all.

Right?

…

She had collapsed on her way to the station, knees stinging from hitting the dirt path so roughly. She clutched at her chest, heaving, forcing her lungs to work, her heart pounding and pushing up her throat. Her exhales came out in tiny whimpers. She heard someone nearby, but her mind was still railing, going into overdrive. She couldn't focus on what was happening around her.

Someone in a black school uniform suddenly dropped on his knees next to her, his hands hovering around her, fretting over her, but he wasn't sure what to actually done.

"–ey? Are – are you okay? Can you – c-can you breathe, miss?" he was panicking, unsure of what to do.

I'm okay – she wanted to tell him, but only ended up inhaling heavily, forcing air in. she bent down and supported herself with one hand on the ground. He instinctively held out his arm in front of her, ready to catch her if she were to fall forward.

They stayed like that, with her panting for dear life, and him frozen in place. It took her some time to regain control of herself.

"…Are…Are you o-okay?" he asked nervously, his voice wavering.

She managed to get a look at him. He seemed scared and worried, sympathy reflecting over his green eyes. He looked a little messy, with curly hair going in all directions and patches of powdery dirt over parts of his black school uniform.

Still slightly tired, she gave him a weak chuckle. "Oh – don't worry, I'm fine now. Silly me. Uh huh…" her voice trailed off when it was clear he wasn't convinced.

He looked at her sympathetically, his hand reaching for her, but stopping midway, realizing it wouldn't be appropriate to touch her. "A – Are you sure?" he asked sadly.

"Hmm! Very sure!" She nodded, ignoring how sweaty her neck felt. "I'm just clumsy, that's all." She gave him a simple smile in an effort to wipe away his concerns.

The sad look in his eyes didn't leave, but his held-out hand dropped to grab the straps of his yellow backpack. He must've just finished school. "…Okay. Ah, you should go home if you're not feeling well, miss," he advised her kindly.

She held up her fist to emphasize her strength. "Thanks, but I'm fine, see? Sorry I worried you." With that, she thanked him for his concern and hurried to catch the train, leaving him reaching out to her, feeling the need to stop her. He stayed in place, slowly lowering his hand and watching as she took a turn and disappeared out of view. Everything was quiet. There was no wind, and the leaves at the tops of trees held still. He swallowed the thick clog of worry forming in his throat and forced himself to continue walking – limping – home. Classmates were never friendly to him.

He stopped at some point, then shook his head and kept going. He didn't want to think someone else was experiencing… that. She seemed like a nice person. Did it always look like that whenever it happened to him? He never thought it'd look so… scary. Usually, he'd be too focused on steadying his heart rate then think of how he must've looked to others passing by. He didn't want to believe it, so, he pushed the thought aside.

…

She saw the boy again the next day, standing right where she'd collapsed yesterday, looking down and drawing circles on the ground with the toe of his red boot, his yellow backpack clinging to his shoulders. He could've gotten home a while ago, but decided to linger and see if she made it back alright.

"Oh, it's you!" Ochaco blurted out excitedly.

He flinched and hunched his shoulders in surprise. Recognizing her, his surprise melted into relief. "… yeah…Hey."

She ran up to him and he instinctively took a step back fearfully.

"Thanks for yesterday!" she told him with a big smile.

He waved his hands in front of him nervously. "O – Oh, no, I – I didn't do anything." He had been useless. Then again, he was Deku the Good-For-Nothing. Of course he would be useless.

She shook her head no. "That was really nice of you. Sorry I ran off like that yesterday," she said with slight embarrassment, scratching the back of her head shyly. "Oh, and I'm Ochaco Uraraka. What's your name?"

He stared in astonishment at her overall friendliness. It was as if no stranger had been this kind to him. Her smile was so bright he almost forgot his own name. "Ah… Midoriya… Izuku Midoriya..."

Turned out, after he had decided to start taking the longer way home from school to clear his mind, they'd cross paths whenever she needed to get to the station to head to work. He walked with her to the station this time, listening as she talked excitedly. It was nice to see someone so optimistic. Remembering how he'd found her yesterday, he figured she was probably dealing with a lot. It amazed him just how strong a person could be to look past all the darkness in life and just be happy.

Ochaco learned Izuku was a shy boy and didn't say much, but she learned he was a good listener and was very observant. She wondered why he would tag along with her to the station. But after he'd asked her if he could accompany her, she just couldn't say no to those wide, hopeful eyes. He was probably still worried after what he'd witnessed the day before and wanted to make sure she reached her destination safely.

"Thanks! You didn't have to come with me, you know," she informed him while waiting for the train.

"It's okay, I… I wanted to," he managed, keeping his eyes down shyly.

He always had a problem when it came to talking to people. It was his way of showing respect; his way of saying See? I'm not looking down on you. I'm not challenging you – because, for some reason, people read him wrong. Was he giving the wrong communication signals when interacting with other? He wasn't sure anymore. He tried to be friendly, and he got shoved around. He tried to smile, and they took it as a challenge. He tried staying away, and he almost blended in with the background. He wasn't sure what to do anymore.

When she boarded the train, she waved to him goodbye through the door mirrors, seeing him shyly lift a hand for a tiny wave of his own. Even after the train drove off, he stood alone, still, slowly dropping his hand and his smile melting away. He wasn't useful, and he knew that. The kids at school made sure that knowledge was tattooed all over his body and mind: A Quirkless nobody.

That girl… She was a nice person, and he hadn't had friends in a while, but that was because she didn't know he belonged to a minority that had no use in society. She wouldn't remember him if he were to disappear. He was still just an acquaintance, after all. She seemed happy during their walk, and maybe he could leave her with that nice memory before he could disappear completely.

Yes. He had nothing. His mother loved him dearly, but, maybe with him gone, she wouldn't have to worry about him all the time. Maybe then she could find someone who loved her, who truly deserved her kindness, and who could give her the love she deserved. Yes, there were more positives than negatives. He could still do it. Living had no meaning. He just ate and worked and slept; wake up, rinse and repeat.

And repeat. And repeat. It was a loop. He could break out of it, but that also meant he wouldn't be able to go back in. But then… why would he go back in? He had nothing to go back to. But what if it hurt? – The dead didn't feel pain, so the pain would be short. What if it was too soon to die? – But then, when was a good time to die? Everyone would die eventually; he was just taking a shortcut. What if he regretted it? – He'd be long dead before he could ever feel regret.

He came to wait for her daily. He didn't have anything else to do after school, so why not? He'd walk her to the station, and she didn't seem to mind his company. She did most of the talking, really, but she seemed happy and enthusiastic the whole way there, so that meant he wasn't messing things up just yet.

"You're going to UA?" he asked suddenly, almost tripping over his own feet. His face never met the floor, though. He remained still in the air, and he felt like he was going down in an elevator.

"Oh, sorry! Here!" Ochaco merely grabbed him as if he were a piece of furniture and tilted him back on his feet. "Sorry for using my quirk on you," she said sweetly. "It'd be bad luck if you fell, right?"

Izuku blinked, his brain still not processing what had happened in these short seconds. "…Y…Yeah…" He tried to say thank you but it never came out.

"And yeah! I'm hoping to get into UA," she admitted.

In the few days – weeks – she got to know him, she'd never seen such a gentle but genuine smile on him. She caught a hint of excitement in his eyes before they were replaced with longing.

"That's… That's amazing!" He wanted to go, too. She was going to be there – at the place he could only dream of attending. He couldn't, though. "Do your best then!" Rooting for her was the only thing he could do, now.

"Thanks! I will! Oh, and…" She stopped to fish out her phone. "It's kinda late, but can I have your number?"

He nerver thought someone would ask him that. Never in his short life.

During their walk, it seemed like he wanted to tell her something. It was only when they needed to part so she could board the train did he finally speak up.

"Umm – do you have time? After work, I mean?" he whispered, looking down, clinching his fist, ready to be rejected.

She blinked at him innocently, then smiled. "Sure!"

Exchanging time schedules, she smiled at him brightly as the train doors closed, hiding her from his view. Okay… Okay. So far, so good. He had to prepare. The red circle on his calendar marked his finale day. A part of him still couldn't believe he was about to go through with it; and another part seemed calm about it – too calm. Today wasn't supposed to exist, because he had already passed the circle on the calendar. The End Day had been yesterday. He wouldn't mind not having a tomorrow, but he couldn't leave things unfinished just yet.

He needed to tie loss ends before he could flick the Off button and finally turn off this never-ending film.

…

She really wanted to hug him for the packaged chocolate-filled bread he'd given her right after she got off the train. After learning her time schedule, he waited for her to walk her home.

He was a sweet boy, but also strange. He was kind, but kept his eyes down most of the time. She figured he was just very shy.

"For money?"

"Uh huh…" she laughed awkwardly. "Yeah… I know, I know – it's not heroic and it's kind of a dumb reason, but –"

"Oh it's not dumb, Ah… s-sorry, sorry! Keep going?"

She giggled lightly. "It's fine. Anyway, my family owns a construction company, but it's not doing so well, with competition and all…" she admitted embarrassingly, playing with the half plastic covered bread in her hands to distract herself.

"Oh, is that way you work so hard?" he sounded genuinely curios.

"Erm… not just that. I… ahh, sort of want to earn it myself." She couldn't depend on her family's leftover cash. She promised to help them, not cling to them.

"You work hard. You're really dedicated, huh?" he said with a soft smile, still keeping his eyes down. The closest he got was glancing at her hands. The bread in his hands was still half covered as well. He pinched the torn edge and pulled the plastic further down to expose more of the chocolate filled treat. "Just don't overwork yourself, okay?" with that, he took a bite of the bread.

It was a simple comment, but she felt something hidden within the lines. She tried to brush it off. "Oh, don't worry. I'm taking care of myself, see?" She comically flexed her arm and they both giggled. He had to cover his mouth as it was still full of bread.

They walked slowly, savoring the quiet atmosphere. They never discussed were to spend their time together, so they aimlessly walked passed stores on the quieter sides.

"But really," he suddenly added in a low voice. "It's not good to not think about yourself." He placed a flat palm over his chest. "When it feels tight here and you can't breathe – that's how you know you need to rest," he advised her as kindly as he could.

She tilted her head and automatically copied him, touching her chest. "Here… Oh! You mean that time!" When she'd collapsed. She remembered.

He sighed, relived she knew what he was talking about. "Yeah… that. Please get more rest if that happens again," he told her.

She blinked, her mind connecting the puzzles in place. He knew. He knew what it felt. He knew what it was! Pretending nothing was wrong wouldn't work with him. He already knew the second they had met.

She held her hand in front of her in innocence, waving them frantically. "Ah – it's fine. I'm fine. I'm a lot better now…" Her voice trailed away, thinking things through. "I… ahh… think talking to you helped me a lot."

"Eh?"

"Yeah, I feel like… How do I put it…" She twirled her thumbs as she searched for the right words in her mind. "There's this weight off my chest after I talk with you. I don't feel as sad as before."

He stared at her, eyes wide in disbelief. He hadn't been prepared to hear that. "Uh…"

"Yeah, I know it sounds silly, but it's true!" she insisted happily. "I guess I just needed to talk to someone."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I… but… I'm – I'm n-not good at – at, you know? I'm not good with people, and…" He kept weaving his fingers together, trying to ease his nerves some way.

"You're a good listener!" She told him happily. "It's helped me a lot, and you're a really nice person, so thanks for being around when I really needed someone… and…" She patted a hand over her heart. "And you can talk to me if you want!"

"Me?" He pointed at himself.

"Yeah!" She nodded enthusiastically. "I mean, I talk to you, so you can talk to me if anything bothers you, too!"

"Oh – I… I, uh, I'm just not good with people and…" He started counting his negative qualities with his fingers. "I mean… I'm… weird. I get scared easily. I don't know h-how to talk to people… I mean, I'm always afraid I might say something offensive without meaning to, and…" He swallowed thickly, unsure if he should reveal the last bit of information. "I'm… I wanted to be a Hero but… but I'm Quirkless. I… can't do anything special… I–" He halted when she grabbed his hand and brought it closer to her.

Surprised, he felt his cheeks heat up and he looked away from their hands and focused on the ground.

"I – uhh – I – what… U – Ur-arak-a, Ah…" He accidentally bit his tongue a few times, struggling to speak.

"I don't know what mean person told you those things…" she told him softly. "But I'm really glad I met you. You're a good person, and you're really – really nice. You don't have to be a hero to be my hero. And…" She noticed how he really wanted to look at her face, but kept dragging his eyes back to the ground.

She playfully gave him a tap on the nose with the tip of her finger. "Boop!" She giggled childishly.

He finally snapped his head up in surprise and accidentally looked her in the eyes for the first time. It seemed like he froze in place, in both astonishment and slight fear that looking at her would offend her in some way or another.

She just giggled and tilted her head. "There. Much better!"

His mind had pulled to a stop. The tiny Christmas lights from inside the winter décor store blinked at them through the viewing window.

"If I promise you something, will you promise it to me, too?" she asked with a bright smile, waiting for a response from him.

He managed to give a shaky node. "Uh – o – okay." He wasn't thinking when he's said.

"I promise to talk to you whenever I feel sad," she said, as if the words were that simple. "Your turn! You have ta' promise to talk to me when you're sad, too!"

It took his normally sharp mind a little too long to figure out what she was trying to do. She'd figured it out. She knew he wasn't entirely happy with himself. Did she know just how far down he had fallen?

"I… I…"

"Promise me!" she ordered, sounding strict this time.

"… Promise."

"You promise to what?" She wanted to get through to him.

"…to, talk to you if I don't feel happy." His eyes instinctively turned to stare at his feet, but she jabbed a finger in his chest, causing him to hold eye contact again.

"Cross your heart?"

She was persistent; he had to admit that. He smiled meekly, finding her will power admirable. "I cross my heart." The plans he'd marked on the calendar didn't seem so welcoming anymore.

She smiled brightly, tightening her hold on his hand, keeping eye contact with him. "And mine, too."

He hadn't planned for a tomorrow, or a day after. He had long passed the mark on the calendar – the red circle that marked the day he'd end his life via train tracks; the day he was supposed to feel the vibrations of an incoming train; the day with no tomorrow. He had passed it; prolonged it. And now, it just seemed like simple ink over paper, and nothing more. He no longer had to keep an eye on that red mark. He had something else to look at.

He couldn't die now. He had so much to hear, so much to say.

He promised, anyway.

Note: Okay. Done. I kinda wrote this for myself, really. A lot has happened this month; bad things and good things, and I wanted to write it down as I reminder, for myself, and for everyone else.

I know this may not be easy to read. I left hints here and there for you to puzzle the story together. I have to be honest, when I wrote this, I was still in a bad mood (I was ready to end Izuku with a miserable death) and I had to stop halfway to talk to friends and come back to it later.