All My White Lies | bnha

eight | pinky promise

"YOU'RE HOLDING ON TO IT LIKE IT'LL FLY OFF,"

Mirio pointed out, watching me clutch onto the envelope. The sun watched me and I glanced at him, briefly joking in my head that if it did fly away, it'd burn at the touch of him. "Part of me thinks it will. Maybe Nejire's idea is to burn the resignation letter away and make me stay another day."

I was being sarcastic again but based on the way that Mirio laughed, I'm guessing he didn't take it as much of a joke. Either I was right in one way or another or my sarcasm had truly gotten worse again. "Any idea where she is? I haven't seen her since class ended," I shrugged my shoulders.

I had walked Tamaki over to the bathroom while Mirio had stayed back to talk to the teacher about something. I hadn't seen Nejire since class ended either. "Maybe she disappeared into the ocean; finally became that jellyfish I always compared her to," Mirio jabbed my ribs.

He grinned at me, "Compared, but can't draw her as one."

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up."

We both paused, staring at the front doors of Yuuei. Neither Nejire or Tamaki were appearing and I could sense the sun was getting more anxious, shoes tapping against the cement. "If you don't stay at Yuuei, where are you gonna end up?" His blue eyes darted to mine, searching my face for an answer.

He was genuinely curious, tongue poking at his bottom lip. "This art school my mom got me into. If it works out, I'll just. . . go there. In the states," I murmured quietly. I wasn't sure if that was more reassurance for myself or an answer for him. Mirio simply nodded, fingers curled with his hands tucked behind his back.

"Do you think she'll manage to get you to stay?"

The question took me aback for a moment and I stared at him. He knew what I was like. I was quiet, reserved, more observant than Tamaki but less anxious than him. I would snap with sarcasm and wit, but at the end of the day, I'd lay down anything for my friends. Mirio saw that at the Yuuei Sports Festival when I had won second place.

It was more so with sheer luck as I believed, but I could tell he believed otherwise.

The sun eyed me as if I was meant to stay here; alongside the moon and him. I guess, in a way, I belonged in our self-made galaxy. Maybe I was another star, a moon, or a planet all on my own. "To be honest, I don't think she can come up with anything for me to stay here," I shook my head.

I stared at the building, picturing all the moments I had run out of class late, rushed after Nejire when she forgot something behind, tagged along with Tamaki so he wouldn't get too nervous, or helped Mirio pass out things. They were all fond memories, but it wasn't me anymore.

All that remained was my ghost; a vague vapor of who I was back then. "If you go, will you come back and visit?" Mirio spoke. His sentences grew more insistent, blue eyes looking more pleading by the second. It wasn't an if anymore; he wanted me to stay here. But in all honesty, I couldn't see a reason as to why.

What was the point?

My mother was right; Kioshi was beyond saving. He wasn't alive anymore and the sinful inky body that replaced him was far from him. It was his ghost, an apparition of all that I wished my younger brother to be. And coming back to Japan wouldn't do me justice, it would only remind me of what I lost.

What I'd given up.

"No, I don't think so. I don't see much of a future for myself,"

"That'll break her,"

Mirio looked up ahead and I caught where he was staring. Nejire was sprinting toward us alongside a few of her other friends, smiling and happily waving them off. Tamaki wasn't that far behind her, hunched over in his own form as he twiddled his arms. His blazer sleeves were damp looking, as if he had stayed behind to dry them.