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Things are changing. Tamaki isn't really good with change, but this time, he has to be.
He just has to be.
It's April and they're starting school again.
U.A. is still the same as ever except for the new students and the fact that they've moved to a new classroom with a new Homeroom teacher, and it's not like Tamaki hasn't changed classes before so he should know better but there's buzzing in his ears and he feels like he's about to faint.
Because it's not the same. They're third years now, and their time in U.A. is coming to an end. They're third years now, they're at the top, and he's not ready, oh, he's so not ready.
He's barely slept in the last two days. Mirio has been too busy at Nighteye's agency to come over, but even if he had, it wouldn't have made any difference.
He hasn't slept in two days, his ears are ringing and he feels like he's about to faint.
“Tamaki!”
It's not that the sound of Mirio's voice can stop any incoming panic attack, because it can't.
It's not that Mirio's hand on his shoulder makes everything easy, because it doesn't.
(It's not that Mirio's kisses cure him of his anxieties, because they don't.)
But whatever Mirio does, it helps a little bit, and sometimes, a little bit is all Tamaki needs.
For a moment they just stand there, right outside the school, and Mirio's smile is soft and full of patience, so much so that Tamaki finds himself smiling too, just a little. His ears are still buzzing but at least he has something to hold on to.
Their third year is not going to be easy. All the things he's afraid of will not stop haunting him. But Mirio by his side means that he can try, that he wants to try.
Mirio doesn't tell him that it's going to be fine because Mirio knows that he's not in a state where he can hear it. What he says instead is:
“Shall we go?”
And focusing on Mirio's smile and voice and the hand on his shoulder helps Tamaki steady himself for a little while.
“Okay.”
“I bet Hadou is already there. I wonder what the new classes will be like?”
“Terrifying.”
“Sure, possibly. But as long as you're with me, I'll try my best!”
Tamaki doesn't reply that with their internships they might both miss days and won't always be in class together. He doesn't need to because that's not the point.
The point is that being a third year still frightens him to no end but some part of him knows that he'll make it through somehow.
The point is that things are changing but Mirio isn't and that's more comforting to him than anything else in the universe, except maybe for Mirio's hand holding his.
It's April still and there's been an attack on U.A.
For some reason Tamaki feels like he should have done something about it, feels like he's responsible, and he doesn't understand it until he's sitting at the cafeteria with Mirio at his side and Hadou in front of them and she says:
“Is it weird that I wish I'd been there? I mean I was doing my internship on that day and we did stop that big guy who'd gone berserk in a public park so it's not as if I was completely useless, but I keep wondering: what would I have done if it had been our class? And also maybe I should have been there with the teachers, well from what I heard they were there a bit late actually so maybe I should have been there before the teachers and I'm not saying that I could have saved All-Might or beaten that giant weird brain thingy but-”
“I could have helped.”
It's Mirio who finishes her sentence but Tamaki's thoughts run along the same line, although maybe less confident because what if he'd been a hindrance or in Aizawa's way but he would have tried, yes, he would have tried.
“Those first years did great,” Mirio continues, “but they shouldn't have had to face this alone. For their first encounter with villains to go like that... it's not fair.”
“I wish I'd been there too,” Tamaki says. “I'm not sure I would have made a difference but-”
“Of course you would have. You're amazing.”
“I-”
“If the three of us had been there, those guys wouldn't have lasted ten minutes!!!”
Hadou doesn't seem down any more but rather enthusiastic about the prospect, and proceeds to detail their potential heroic actions. Tamaki listens but keeps glancing at Mirio, whose smile doesn't fully hide the fact that he's still beating himself up a bit about the whole affair even though none of them could possibly have known what was going on in USJ at the time. Unless they'd met with the class rep who warned the teachers, but that did not happen.
There's something else about the attack, something more that all three of them understand, that the whole school understands, like a change in the atmosphere. It's not that they no longer feel safe at U.A., it's that now they know that U.A. is not a safe place, not fully. Villains got in and it might never happen again and sure nobody died but what if there is a next time? And it's not so much fear that runs in the students' veins, especially third years, no, not so much fear as anticipation. What would, what will I do when it's my turn?
Second and third years have met villains before, it's part of their internship. In the vast, vast majority of cases, those encounters did not match the scale of what happened at USJ. But they do have the experience.
U.A. is different, though. U.A. is where they learn what to apply outside, not the other way round. And maybe all that has changed now. And maybe there's more change to come.
“Tamaki?”
Mirio looks like he does whenever they're alone and he's about to kiss him on the forehead, but Tamaki knows he won't because they're still in the middle of the cafeteria and he"s never been able to figure out exactly how he felt about public displays of affection so they've decided to leave those aside for now.
But there's something else in Mirio's eyes and smile, something he might only allow his boyfriend to see. So Tamaki nods and answers.
“We'll see what happens.”
Because that's all they can do, isn't it?
It's May and even after two years Tamaki still hates the Sports Festival.
This time all eyes are set on the first years, though, which lessens the pressure, and he is thankful for it. Most of his classmates do not share his feelings, but that's okay.
“Awww, I guess that couldn't be avoided,” Hadou sighs after noticing that the arena isn't full. “And it's not like we can be angry at them for getting attacked either...”
Mirio is unusually quiet.
He's always worked hard, but this year is different. He's gotten more intense, in certain ways. Maybe because all that effort is finally starting to pay off. Or maybe because of USJ and everything that is to come.
Tamaki watches him as he stretches. Follows the lines of his body – he's known them early on, even before they became boyfriends, but it's always something to look at. Right now, of course, Mirio is still wearing clothes, and he'll keep them on until the start of the first event, but Tamaki likes him in that way as well.
He likes Mirio in a lot of ways.
Tamaki realises that he's started to blush, and decides to go cool down against the wall for a bit. Even with first years attracting all the attention, there'll still be hundred, if not thousands of people watching them. He starts to shake, slows down his breathing, counts.
Inhale for seven.
Exhale for eight.
And again.
And of course he messes up and now he's coughing, so he tries something a little bit different for a change.
He looks at Mirio, and of course Mirio smiles back at him. Tamaki still wants to go home but he knows he won't.
“Come on guys, we better get ready!! Let's show them what we've go!”
“Yes,” says Mirio, “let's.”
It's early June, people have started calling them the Big Three, and Tamaki watches the Stain video. The two things, obviously, are not related.
And yet.
They're both sitting on his bed. Mirio occasionally phases through it (and through the clothes he is still wearing), down and back up again, as a form of practice. Tamaki has subconsciously begun to imitate him, transforming his feet into talons over and over again – he knows he's doing it now, but he won't stop.
He holds the tablet between them. The video stopped playing over a minute ago, but neither of them has said anything yet.
They both know what it means. They both know what kind of trouble this ideology will attract.
They both know that, as part of the Big Three, this fight for the future will be theirs, to some extent. And it is daunting. Even for Mirio. Even though his dream, saving people, requires, by definition, that there should be something to save them from.
“What if we-”
“We can, and we will.”
By “we”, he meant “I”. But Mirio knows that already.
“You're the most resilient person I've ever known, Tamaki. If I'm always bettering myself, if I've got this far, it's because of you. To catch up to you. Your skills are way above-”
“That's what everyone keeps saying, but what if I mess up? These are real people, real stakes-”
“Are the people you save every week with Fatgum any less real?”
“I don't-”
“We both know you do. Maybe I just know it a little bit more, but it doesn't make it any less true. You are a formidable hero, Tamaki.”
Mirio's smile becomes a grin before he adds:
“And I love you!”
Tamaki is blushing, but it doesn't stop him from leaning in.
There are things he'll never get used to, like speaking in public or going on any kind of stage for any kind of reasons.
Kissing Mirio is not one of those things.
It's July and one of U.A.'s students has been captured by the League of Villains.
It's July and All Might's time has come to an end.
It's July and Tamaki sits in silence in Mirio's room and he hasn't had a panic attack yet but he knows it's just a matter of time before he does, but Mirio's arms are his anchor and he knows that, in a way, he's Mirio's anchor as well. They sit in silence, Mirio's breath warm against his neck, and Tamaki reaches for the hand that rests on his stomach and grabs it and squeezes, once, twice.
It's July and things are changing.
It's August and Tamaki moves into the U.A. dorm.
Hadou has the bedroom opposite his and even though they're in different wings they both smiled when they realised it.
Mirio, thankfully, will be his next door neighbour. As soon as Tamaki is alone, he places a hand on the wall that separates them, knowing that Mirio will be doing the same thing on the other side.
And indeed, Mirio's hand isn't long to find his.
Tamaki is no longer in the comfort of his own home, of his own bedroom. He's away from the one place that was his and made him feel safe. It's a big move, one he would have had to do eventually but not like this.
He lets go of Mirio's hand and starts unpacking. Everyone around him is going through the same thing, they've all had to leave their homes, and they've all spent nights thinking about All Might retiring and what it means. They know that they're next, that they have to keep marching on and keep training and get stronger, and even though he doesn't know if he'll ever be strong enough he has to keep going.
He just has to keep going.
It's September and the Big Three are supposed to talk to first years about the internships.
“Just envision their heads as potatoes!” Hadou advises. “It'll make it easier, you'll see!”
“I don't want to do this...”
“It's fine, Tamaki. It'll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” he whines to Mirio. “You'll be the star performer after all.”
“The-”
Mirio suddenly starts grinning.
“Yes, you're right. I'll do my best to show those first years everything they have to gain by working hard!”
It's just like him to get fired up like that. Tamaki doesn't understand how he does it, doesn't understand how Mirio never finds himself with his head against the wall.
It's one of the many things that makes them different. One of the many reasons Tamaki looks up to him.
“You're so amazing,” he says, and he's not even bitter about it, he never has been.
“We all have our strengths, Tamaki. Leave the stage to me. You... you shine in other ways.”
It's October and Tamaki shines.
He is injured and the villains are fighting hard, but he shines, shines, outshines the sun.
Mirio is in his mind because Mirio never leaves it. Encouragements in words and in touches. Nights slept in each other's arms – more often in the last few weeks, the one good side of U.A.'s dormitories. Training together and never giving up. Kissing in Mirio's garden, sunlight on their faces.
Tamaki subdues his opponents and it's been hard but he's done well, even he knows he's done well.
He collapses before he can think of what Mirio will say.
It's October and everything has changed.
Mirio's smile wavers the moment they're alone in the hospital room, and Tamaki gets up from his own bed, ignoring the pain. He stops at the edge of where Mirio sits – Mirio who tried to get up too but couldn't put his feet to the ground in the end.
He wraps his arms around his sun, his beacon, his light who will never stop shining – neither of them ever will, no matter what happens, and soon, very soon, he is going to say just that – and holds tight.
Tamaki does not deal well with change and he wants to go and hide and cry, he wants to curl up into a corner because facing the wall won't be enough for something of this magnitude. Yet he doesn't do any of that – he will, later, but not now, not now; instead, he holds Mirio tight, tighter, and places his hand at the back of Mirio's neck, and kisses his temple and holds him some more.
He's going to be there for as long as he can stand. He's going to hold Mirio for as long as his arms will let him.
He will take his hand when they get out of the hospital and move into his dorm room so that there's no need to think about phasing through the wall any more.
They will train together and kiss in sunlight and the worry every time Lemillion goes to save people will probably weigh heavily on Tamaki's heart but he'll take it, he'll bear it, because he knows that it's simply how things are going to be from now on.
Tamaki isn't good with change but this time he has to be.
And, holding Mirio and whispering in his ear, he knows that he will be.
Because Mirio never really changes and the hands gripping his back still feel the same as ever and yes it'll be hard but they'll make it.
They'll shine, together. Differently, and not as they were meant to be. But they will shine. Together. The sun, and the sun-eater.