Love was something I recognized well when I was younger. I loved my parents until they learned to despise me. I cherished my friends until they all left. I learned to love myself until my dream was shattered. I learned to love him until he threw me away.

Dear Boy, who always flirted with me

I loved you.

For some reason, the one who never even bore me a glance took pitty on me and brought me into one of the lower ranked classes where my old class learned to forget about me, except him. Denki Kaminari, the boy who had very little control over his quirk but still found ways to make people smile I remember the day he came to my class only to get rejected by the girl he was asking out, he didn't frown or cry instead turned it into a joke. Everybody laughed and from then on he was cool with out class, he was the only one who saw us as equals instead of support.

With some time he learned everyone's names and all sorts of things about them. When he came to me, it was like a relief that someone remembered me from out class. We talked for a bit after that and in the small time I felt more then just the person who didn't have a quirk. Leaving that day, I felt special and for once didn't think of myself as some quirkless being.

Day by day we talked and that special feeling stayed with every day we hung out together, but like all bad stories that wasn't the ending. With love comes something more deadly, not sadness nor anger, but hurt. Hurt was what If felt once the unfaithful day that was meant for us came around.

Valentines day, the day for love, the day I planned to confess my feelings for the yellow-haired boy. I planned on giving him a note when he stopped by our class, except he never came by. I didn't see him till the end of the school day and even then I wished to never have seen him.

After school, I went to find the boy seeing him in the hall, but when I went to talk with him something broke within me when seeing the funny flirting boy kissing another girl. I've never felt so lost until that day, but I guess feeling lost can endure a useful thing in people.

Hurt and lost filled my mind and the only way to get rid of it was to work and work on fulfilling my dream. One day the teacher who I've learned to hate came by asking to speak with me. Agreeing to it, he told me that the school had noticed my improvement and would like me to go back to their class. In that moment I felt like laughing, they wanted me back in the class with the people who hated me and didn't bat an eye when I left. Something in me changed that day; I wanted to make people hurt like I hurted and the first people were the students in class 1-A. I took his offer and went back into the class, but for a much different reason then my first time being there.

Once I got back to the class, everyone wanted me to be my friend and eat with me but I ignored them. You tried talking to me like the rest of them, but I didn't listen, I merely pushed them away, far, far away. But the past always comes back and old feelings returned with every word spoke between us.

Why did he keep trying? Why was I so special to him? Why did I keep believing him?

Flirt after flirt and old feelings returned and I couldn't help but blush everytime I saw your face, it was a masterpiece to me. We were going strong when it happened again, another girl, another broken heart that was created by him. Why does it hurt so much worse then anything else? I think that was my last straw, the tip of the ice was finally broken and new feelings bloomed in my heart, dark, dark feelings.

From, the person you flirted with and gave them a broken heart.