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“You all are going to have to write and preform slam poetry. The competition is in a months time. Grand prize is $100 and my respect,” Aizawa says, his tone slightly joking at the end. He gives a pile of fliers to the front row and tells them to pass them back and around. “You don't have to take this seriously if you don't want to, but you are being graded on it. You will be preforming in front of our school and two other high schools. If you'd like a pass on preforming then you need to let me know in the next week so we can come up with something for you to do. As you all know, slams impact comes from the way it's said. That is all. Please start to work on these.”
Aizawa sits behind his desk, watching the class come to life with everyone talking excitedly. The few people he expected to be nervous about performing come up to him that class, and he allows them to only perform to him, though they lose the chance of getting the prizes. He's kind of surprised with how excited Katsuki seems about the whole thing, though, he didn't think that the boy would be interested in slam poetry in the slightest.
Aizawa notes how nervous Kirishima seems, though. He's never noticed it before, but his energy seems nervous. He chalks it up to the difficulty of the assignment and just ignores it.
Kirishima feels a weight in his chest. He can make it silly, like he's sure everyone is expecting from him, but on the other hand, he thinks it would be easier to write something he knows. To perform it with enough emotion that he has a chance at the grand prize. It would be nice to have that kind of money, especially since he can only get things when his parents give him his allowance. He sighs softly, looking down at his paper while his friends all talk to each other about their topics.
He can't choose, not right now. He starts to write down some throwaway things he could use if he wanted to. When the bell finally rings, he gets up and heads out to his next class, smiling happily and talking to his friends, listening to them getting excited about their own pieces. Everyone seems to be genuinely excited about a non physical competition. Izuku and Katsuki seem to be arguing about something related to it, he assumes that it must be which of them are going to win. He laughs softly, watching them argue. It looks like it's joking, which makes his heart soft. He loves when they get along, it's always so sweet.
The weeks pass, and his friends all practice on him, but he refuses to do his in front of anyone. He wants it to be a surprise, he insists, he doesn't want them to know the competition.
Kirishima doesn't think he's ever been this nervous before. He stares down at his paper, though he knows it by heart. He doesn't need to read it, but more than anything he doesn't want to go through the embarrassment if he forgets a word. He takes a deep breath, tuning out the person on stage. His turn comes sooner than he's ready for. To say he's having sudden stage fright is an understatement.
Kirishima walks on stage, blushing when he hears Izuku holler from the crowd to him. A few of their classmates follow suit, shouting 'I love you's to echo Izuku's. He smiles and waves to them, then looks down at the paper. His hands are trembling nervously. Clearing his throat just makes a weird sound into the microphone and makes him feel a little more jumpy. Does he really want to do this? It's too late now, he supposes. He's got nothing else.
One more shaky breath, you can do this, he thinks.
“A boy, only 15
staring at the mirror, wondering
why his costume shows so much
skin
He knows he designed it
and yet
the reason he designed it pulls it off better
doesn't matter what he does
he still looks bad
or that's what he thinks
and if he stares in the mirror too long
no one notices
and the ones that do just think he's conceited
Conceited? No
They have no idea what's running through his head
His mind screams at the mere though
Stop
The mere thought that someone might know
That he could talk
Stop
If he does he is stuck
With forced therapy and doctors appointments
Stop
That is assuming his parents care
Stop
He can't speak
It's not manly to feel
this way
Only girls can be afflicted
Stop
Only girls can develop
Stop
But isn't it possible?
The signs are all there
He skips breakfast
He skips dinner
Only gets away without lunch
on lies
“It's a fasting day for my diet”
he says
As if most days aren't
Diet
Diet
He throws around the word so people aren't suspicious
Suspicious
When he loses weight
but the number on the scale is still too high
he wants to die
Stop
When he sees news of a suicide
Stop
When a teenager kills themselves
An adult always says
“Weren't they too young to
die?”
Stop
Who gets to decide what age is appropriate for me
to want to die
Stop
And if he stays too close
to areas deadly villains frequent
who would notice?
If he died in a way
that seemed accidental
who would believe it's on purpose?
Unless there was a note
A Note
The world is obsessed with suicide notes
Romanticizing them
Even though there are times
when
Stop!
Times when it moves too fast
Stop
If he took the pills
or jumped
or slit his wrists
Would they need a note?
Or would they know and simply
wonder
Wonder why
Such a young guy
With so much potential to his life
threw it all away
Wonder why
When the signs were all there
The signs he dropped
The signs
The signs
he wasn't okay
he never was
and yet they'll say
“he left this world too soon”
As if they get to pick and choose
Tehy never offered meaningful help
They ignored the signs and now he
Stop
And now he's wondering if
Stop
Wondering
Stop
Wondering
STOP
Is this enough
Can this be his note?
His final goodbye
Would anyone have known?
Without being told?
That this is goodbye?
goodbye”
Kirishima's voice breaks on the last word. His lips are trembling as he tries to hold back tears. He doesn't look up at the silent audience, just steps back and walks backstage. He sets his paper down beside his phone and starts to run.
The audience is absolutely stunned, especially the people from 1-A. They had no idea, Kirishima always seems so happy. Izuku turns to look at Katuski, tipping his head a little. “Do you think...that was really goodbye? We need to find him,” he says, getting up quickly. The competition is nearly over, he's sure they won't miss the two of them.