Hey. No. Maybe We Could Talk About It?

hey. no. maybe we could talk about it?

blue haired girl

hado nejire x reader

warnings: growing apart, unrequited feelings, abandonment, non-descriptive self-harm, lesbians (the horror!)

a/n: there's a bit of time skipping in this, so i’ve labeled things as their verses in the songs and the years (1, 2, and 3A) + semesters of high school they took place in. is nejire adhd/autistic coded? i cant tell, maybe its because i see the way she is as my normal (adhd) that i cant tell. i'm basing her personality strongly off the wiki bc she really hasn't had that much air time.

word count: 2.9k

inspired by and based on tv girl's- blue hair

Verse 1 - First Semester 1A

You and Nejire met on your first day of high school, class 1A. Both of you had quirks that were more powerful than the rest of the girls in your class, assuming that the two of you thought that you were superior to them and were already looking down on them, they took initiative and distanced themselves from you at the start. This left the two of you with only two options, have no friends, be a lonely outcast for the foreseeable future, or become friends. Obviously, it was an easy choice, and it was nice that the two of you got along well, and probably would have become friends even if you weren’t put in that unfortunate social situation.

She was a blunt girl, not really knowing when it was the appropriate time, if at all, to say something that she wanted to say. She often ended up saying things that were accidentally hurtful, though if you let her know, she would instantly feel remorseful and apologize incessantly. She wasn’t always sure how to make a joke, often her attempts falling flat, but she was bright, and cheery, and had so much knowledge that she longed to share. You couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at her as you listened to her ramble about the newest thing, she learned that week on national geographic.

One day, in the middle of your first year, she asked you how to be funny. You were taken aback, and asked her back, “you think I’m funny?” She nodded with a small smile.

You contemplated on how you should respond to her difficultly abstract question, “I don’t think that’s something you can teach.”

She looked down, her smile falling off her face sent a pang of guilt to your heart. You quickly tried to backtrack, “I think you’re funny though Hado! You’re constantly making me smile and laugh!”. Her eyes met yours, a furrow forming on her brow, you stammered on, “Maybe not everyone thinks you’re funny, but I think that’s true for everyone! You just got to find the people that do think you’re funny and like being around you… like me.” You held eye contact with her despite the bright flush that made its way to your cheeks, ask if you were trying to transfer your conviction over to her. She brushed off your almost confession with a giggle and a change of topic.

Chorus 1- Second Semester 2A

As you both aged, Nejire started to get more notice than you. Not that you were jealous, you being too enamored with her to care, no, you were just happy that she was getting the recognition you thought she so obviously deserved. It did sting though, when she would turn down your invitations for afterschool dates poorly vailed by you as hangouts. She needed to train though, she would say, and dismiss you with a “next time, okay y/n?”

Sometimes as you left the school building on your way home you would take the long way, past the training fields to watch her for a little bit, training with two boys from your class. You wondered why she didn’t ask you to train with her, to help her. You would never ask though, far too afraid of the answer that seemed to be pulling at the hem of your shirt, demanding your attention. She’s just focusing on training, it’s not like she suddenly stopped liking you. It’s not like she wanted to stop being your friend. It’s not like she was purposely ignoring you. Right?

Verse 2- Third Semester 1A

The two of you were sitting in a cafe after school, one that Nejire had shown you a picture of on Pinterest and said the two of you had to go for their cute specialty foods. You had gotten a parfait, the cream on top having been manipulated into the shape of a cat, Nejire got a jasmine tea latte, the art in the foam had her swooning and whipping out her phone to snap pictures of it in multiple angles as she told you about her Pinterest page’s aesthetic, you listened along, slightly confused at the idea of people posting on Pinterest like it was a social media but not questioning it. After she had taken enough pictures of both her and your orders, the two of you started on your treats, she took a long sip from her latte and when she placed it back down on the table, she had suddenly grown a distinguished mustache made of foam. It made you smile so hard your cheeks hurt, trying to keep your laugher a courteous volume to the other patrons was exceedingly difficult as she didn’t seem to notice her new facial accessory and was looking at you very confused. In spite of your shakes of laughter you managed to raise a shaky hand to point at your upper lip, signaling to her what you had found so funny. She raised a finger to her top lip, touching the foam and then pulled it back to see what was on her face. Realizing what she had done, her face blushed a warm pink as she quickly grabbed her napkin to wipe it away. You had finally calmed down and noticed that she had missed a little bit on the far edge.

“Nejire, you still have some,” you told her and pointed on yourself where it was on her, picked the napkin back up and scrubbed at her face, but on the wrong side.

“No, other side,” you specified. She again rubbed at her face with the now crumpled napkin but somehow still managed to miss the small smudge of foamed milk.

Not thinking, you rose and leaned across the table, before wiping the white away with your thumb. You sat back down, and without a thought in your head, licked it off of your thumb.

You noticed her face flush, even more than before, now a hot red; you realized the suggestiveness of what you had just done, and at the same time, felt an explosion of butterflies manifest themselves into your gut.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking down with a slight smile on her face, and you reddened.

The two of you sat in silence for a while before she broke it.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

You didn’t think before you responded.

“Yes.” You hesitated and then added on, “I think you’re really beautiful.”

The two of you fell back into silence.

The purgatory of not knowing how the two of you felt about each other was horrible, but the fear of rejection, not just of a confession but of you as a person, rejecting your identity, kept you in your place.

There really was no winning.

Chorus 2- First Semester 3A

It hurt, seeing her every day, but not being able to talk to her about anything and everything in the way that you had grown used to. She was part of the big 3 now, she was revered by everyone now, she was strong and kind and smart and now they were all seeing what you had from the start. It was selfish of you, you knew, but you wish they hadn't noticed.

She wasn’t being purposefully cruel in her withdrawal from you, she wasn’t doing it to be mean, she had just forgotten, she had just been stretched too thin and something had to go. It was still mean though, and it was still cruel.

You felt the loneliest now, so much so it was almost incomparable. Your days now spent in silence, and slowly falling into the motions. School, train, sleep, school, train, sleep, school, train, sleep. With nothing to break the monotony, life became dull, and you were sinking into a different kind of blue, not the blue of an eye like you did when you first saw Hado Nejire, but into the blue of the mind, getting darker, muddier, harder to see what’s in front of you.

You became more reckless, not in retaliation but due to a slow building and concerning lack of self-preservation. Often throwing yourself into dangerous positions with villains, jumping solo into fights, you had no probability of winning alone, asking for more and more hours at your internship. It kept it at bay for a little while, the numbness, but as with most things, it did not last. You feared you were slowly but surely becoming a shell of your former self.

You needed something more, you needed to keep yourself feeling, needed to keep yourself human, needed to keep yourself. So, you resorted to means you probably shouldn’t have. Flame, blade, burns, blood. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but it was something.

On an especially hot September day it was odd to see students wearing their long-sleeved winter uniforms, but not enough to raise many questions. One girl asked, “Aren’t you hot?”, but you brushed it off, explaining that you just ran cold. A bold-faced lie to anyone who knew you, but none of them did.

As you were working on your lesson book, Hado Nejire walked past your desk on her way to the front of the room, glancing down at you, maybe out of habit, she got a glance of lines of damaged skin, some already faded, but many varying degrees of red. She faltered in her step, double taking, confused as to what she was seeing. Not wanting to cause a scene in class or be caught staring, she almost seamlessly continued walking, and if one hadn’t been watching her, they wouldn’t have noticed her split second reel.

She stopped you by the door after class, and when you tried to scoot by her, thinking she wasn’t aware she was in the doorway, she blocked its entirety with her body, staring you down. She grabbed you by the hand and led you to an unused stairwell as you stumbled behind her hastened pace. You didn’t notice it at the time, but she was especially careful when grabbing you, fearing that she would take hold somewhere that would cause you pain, fearing to reopen possible wounds.

There was a furrow in your brow as you looked at her, wordlessly questioned why she had dragged you there. She turned your arm over, her hand still holding yours, and gently raised your crisp white sleeve, a gasp of dismay escaping her lips as her eyes raked over your battered arm. She dropped your hand only to quickly grab your other one, pulling the sleeve of that arm up too. You were watching her face as she grit her teeth at the sight, her eyebrows pushed into an expression you didn’t know, one you had never seen before even after all the years you had known her. Her head turned and her eyes met yours, weirdly, you thought, they were filled with tears.

“Why?”

This pushed some button you did not know you had, and an unexpected, hot rage filled you.

“What do you mean, Hado?” you did not spit her name, but she flinched as if it was filled with venom.

“Y/n…” she trailed off. You remained silent, seething.

“This isn’t like you, why would you do this?”

You didn’t answer her for a long time before sighing, “You wouldn’t know Hado, you haven’t spoke to me in well over 5 months.”

“I’m sorry, I-” her words almost a whimper, but you interrupted her.

“Please, don’t. I don’t think I can stomach it Hado, I think, whatever you’re going to say next, will only make things worse.”

She clamped her mouth shut, her lips in a pale line, and nodded tearfully, before choking out an “okay”.

Things didn’t change much after that, though she was more watchful of you, you could, at times, feel her eyes boring into you from across the classroom or training halls and fields, and you started feeling a little different, slowing down in your efforts to drive away the numbness, as the numbness seemed to seep away from you. Less and less, you found yourself feeling as if there was nowhere else to go with a knife in your grasp.

You also no longer prayed that she would make time for you, disillusioning yourself, and realizing that she was not perfect, though feelings as strong as yours don’t just simply disappear due to disillusionment.

Verse 3- Third Semester 3A

Her hair had been burnt off, now in a blunt bob, and what once had been marred and blistered skin was now just slightly tinged pink. It still hurt you to see though, quietly observing. She was different now, bolder, more self-assured, Maybe, you mused, something had been burnt off along with her hair. You were different now too though, you were better. You had sought counseling, speaking to the trusted hero you were interning under, and they helped you find and utilize resources to mitigate your mental health. You felt lighter, you were still lonely, but you were now a little bit more at peace with your solitude, and less afraid to put yourself out there, slowly becoming friends with the sidekicks at your internship who were just a couple years your senior.

Chorus 3- After Graduation

Sometimes you would see her on TVs in coffee shops, or in ads in magazines, though if you looked you could find yourself too, maybe not as often, but still there. Both of you were making a name for yourselves in the hero world.

You had started dating a pretty sidekick from your agency, she was one of the first people you had befriended when you started putting in the effort to get better, she had been there for you through many bad nights, and many more good ones. You really, truly loved her. And yes, sometimes you would miss your first love, but not in a way of current longing, but for a past. You would never leave your girlfriend though, even if you got the chance to go back, even if they told you everything would turn out the way you had begged and hoped and dreamt. Those were no longer your dreams.

It was in line at a coffee shop that you ran into her. She looked nice, more mature, gracefully slipping into her early 20’s, face less youthful, but still bright with a smile.

The two of you chatted as you waited for your orders to be taken, and continued afterwards, as you waited for them to be made.

She was direct in her flirting, touching your arm, complementing you, laughing a little too much at things that weren’t that funny. You did not reciprocate. 5 years ago, if she had been doing what she was doing now, you would have been over the moon, indescribably happy, but now, you didn’t feel much of anything at all. You were flattered, maybe a bit annoyed, but the feelings were so watered down, so muted that you could barely describe them as anything. You were happy to talk to an old friend though.

“We should hang out some time,” she told you after your orders had been picked up from the counter and the two of you started towards the front doors, “go on a little afterschool date like we used to.” She smiled and winked.

You politely smiled back at her and opened your mouth to reply, when your phone started going off, the ring tone you had affectionately assigned to your girlfriend, playing.

“Oh, sorry it’s my girlfriend, let me answer real quick,” not waiting for a response from Nejire, you picked up the phone.

“Hey love, what’s up?” You inquired through the phone.

“Are you almost home yet?”

“Yeah, I just picked up your coffee from the coffee place two blocks down.”

“Oh yay! Thank you baby, see you soon, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You ended the call and turned towards Nejire apologetically, “Sorry about that!”

You exited the shop, Nejire holding the door open for you, and stood next to her on the sidewalk, close to the building and out of the way.

“Oh!” you realized you hadn’t answered her question yet, “yeah, it would be nice to hang out and catch up.” This time, hangout had no hidden meanings or crossed fingers. It was purely platonic. “I miss you,” she confessed. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you were really never expecting her to say that.

“I guess things ended up differently, not the way I wanted I mean.” she clarified. “It’s hard seeing you in the news, or in my fashion magazines, but not being able to see you in person anymore. I just… miss you a lot y/n, even though you’ve not gone anywhere.”

You hmm and nod, “you’re right, I haven’t gone anywhere. That was you, Hado Nejire. I’m proud of you, you're becoming a great hero.” You smiled at her softly. She stood, unmoving, looking at you, maybe waiting for something more, but you were no longer the person who would be able to provide that.

“Well, I need to get going before all this ice melts,” you shook the iced coffee in your hands, “or my girlfriend will have my head.”

“Oh, uh, okay” she stammered.

“Message me! My numbers still the same, if you still have it. You could meet my girlfriend too, I think you’d like her, she’s amazing.”

Nejire nodded, watching your figure as you walked away, bitter jealousy and remorse making their home in her sour stomach.

Hi! I know it may seem like I am romanticizing self-harm in this but I promise I am not. As it is something I have struggled with for many years I am just reflecting my own struggles and thoughts, and trying to represent a mental illness as what it is. That doesn't mean it is something you should do, and if you struggle with it and are tempted after reading, here are some healthier alternatives. Please do not hurt yourselves, lovelies.

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tahojiki

9 months ago

This is a side of Kirishima the fandom sleeps on: the one where he aggressively chased down the most anxious upperclassman he could find until he conceded and got him a job

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