All My White Lies | bnha

twenty-eight | the sun is also a star

MIRIO WAS SWEATY. His forehead glistened underneath the lights of the training room and despite me reassuring him that my injuries were almost fully healed, he insisted on going easy on me. "So, Mirko again this year?" He raised the bottom of his training top to wipe the sweat off his face, flashing his abs at me.

I didn't care, copying his actions briefly and instinctively checking the tattoo on my right bicep. "I hope so," I muttered. My head whipped back in time to block a solid punch from him, my right arm raised to catch the damage. "But Principal Nezu said there's another department interested in me."

"Which one?"

"Didn't say,"

The blond panted, raising his left leg to knock me off my feet as I swiftly dodged in time, stepping back a bit to create space between us. "Another protective detail?" His brows were furrowed, both out of curiosity and confusion. Every year, I attended work-study and without fail, it would always be with the same woman.

A tan-skinned, muscular catastrophe with hair as white as snow and eyes as red as blood. She was like a reverse Snow White if Snow White was the one giving away poisoned apples. The first time I had ever trained with her, I felt like I could fall asleep for the next week (and even considered sliding off a building).

However, Mirko was hard-headed, and unfortunately "no" and "rest" weren't words in her dictionary. It was the most grueling exercise I had ever been through, but I came out stronger and more aware of the tactics of close combat on the other end. "I hope not. The last one nearly killed me," I joked lightly, swerving my head in time to avoid another punch.

I frowned at him, sighing. "Seriously, man. What's with the offense today?"

Mirio chuckled, pausing for a moment as he took a step back too. "Sorry, guess my head's elsewhere." He supplied. His tone sounded apologetic, but pathetic all the same, as if the reason for his actions was blatantly obvious. Though, I knew no one else would notice this about him; no one else trained with him as adamantly as I did.

"You should practice your defense. You can't just phase through everything."

Mirio sent me a weak smile, watching me reach for the water bottle along the sidelines. I took a long sip from it, heaving in a breath afterward. Mirio was still looking at me, a hesitant expression on his face. His lips were thin, taut from the usual grin they'd be in and his eyes seemed troubled, swimming with emotions and thoughts I couldn't pinpoint.

I sharply inhaled again, ignoring the dull pain in my torso. "Are you okay?" His words were quiet, watching me brace my hand against my abdominal muscles. I could feel my ribs shift underneath them, sending another course of pain through my system. "I'm pretty sure I should be asking you that," I laughed at his reply, opting to sit down now.

Mirio didn't hesitate to join me, his water bottle in hand as he plopped down. His eyes were wide with surprise though as if he hadn't expected me to pick up on his weirdness today. "I'm fine, just a little distracted. Sorry if I'm not as fun to train with today," He mumbled in between sips of water.

I shook my head at him, patting his shoulder. "It's fine. Would it help to talk it out?"

His lips finally upturned into a small smile as he looked up at the lights. "No, not really. It's just some personal stuff, I'll work it out on my own." I didn't fully believe his statement but I didn't want to pry any further either, rising to my feet with a big stretch. The pain was gone and I knew it'd come back to haunt me, but for now, I was okay.

"You up for another round?" I looked back at him as he grinned in response, nodding enthusiastically. We trained for a little while longer, but it still didn't feel the same. There were bouts where Mirio's punches would be weaker or his defense would be lacking. Sometimes he'd suddenly phase out before he'd scramble to keep his clothes on.