Boku no Hero Academia My Hero Academia - KuriKuri - deeper than your body - 16638062

“I think we should break up.”Shōta blinks at Hizashi slowly, as if processing the declaration.“Okay.”

deeper than your body

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from utada hikaru's 俺の彼女 because i'm an angsty bitch who's weak for that song (and also utada hikaru saying 「俺の彼女」) > > obviously if you don't like breakup fics like........... don't read this. they get back together in the end, though.

“I think we should break up.”

Shōta blinks at Hizashi slowly, as if processing the declaration.

“Okay.”

Now it’s Hizashi’s turn to blink, caught off guard, even though he was the one to make the suggestion in the first place.

“Great,” Hizashi replies, after hesitating for maybe a beat too long. He hopes that Shōta doesn’t hear the way his voice cracks slightly at the end. “Well, not great, but. Uh. Yeah. We’re in agreement.”

Shōta picks up his glass and drains the last of his gin and tonic, before setting it back down on the table. His face is obscured by the dim lighting of the restaurant, and it’s hard to make out all the details of his expression from across the table, but he seems unperturbed by the current conversation.

“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” he asks, his tone not betraying any more emotion than his expression does.

“Not really,” Hizashi answers weakly, trying to ignore the dull throb of pain deep in his chest.

“Then I’m going to head out,” Shōta announces, standing up from the table. “I need to start my night patrol soon.”

“Stay safe,” Hizashi replies on instinct. He winces as soon as soon as the words are out of his mouth, though, too ingrained a habit for him to suppress so soon after breaking up with Shōta.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Shōta says. With that, he wraps his capturing weapon around his neck and heads for the door. Hizashi watches him go until he’s disappeared from sight, trying to ignore the way his heart feels heavier with every centimeter of distance that opens between them, and half of him wants to call out to Shōta and take back what he’d said.

It’s hard to believe that an eight year long relationship took less than a minute to end.

“Fuck,” Hizashi mutters under his breath, reaching up to scrub at his eyes with the heel of his palm. He can already feel the tears building and he frantically hopes that he doesn’t start crying in the middle of the restaurant, but he supposes it’s probably too late for that.

Somehow, he’d expected Shōta to put up more of a fight.

Not a screaming argument or anything too heated and emotional, but he’d hoped for at least a _“Why?”_ Hizashi’s always known that he was more invested in their relationship than Shōta was, but this is the worst sort of confirmation that Shōta was never really in love with him.

Shōta cares about him, of course. Hizashi’s never doubted his position as Shōta’s best friend, and Shōta’s clearly at least a little sexually attracted to him, but their relationship has always lacked a certain passion, a certain commitment.

The only reason Shōta said, “Yes,” when Hizashi asked him out all those years ago was because he didn’t have a reason to say, “No.”

“Okay,” Hizashi mutters, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Okay, I’m fine.”

His eyes are still a little damp, but he’s managed to avoid crying outright, although he’s sure that once he’s in the privacy of his own apartment, he won’t be able to stop himself.

As much as this hurts, though, it’s for Shōta’s own good.

Hizashi digs his phone out of his pocket and brings up the email he’d gotten from his publicist the previous day. There’s a photo attached to it, taken from the bottom of a dimly lit alleyway, just enough lighting to make out the two figures silhouetted on the balcony above. Something throbs deep in Hizashi’s chest as he takes in Shōta’s expression, soft and relaxed as Hizashi kisses him, at home in the privacy of his own apartment.

Or, well, they’d assumed it was private.