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“Stop asking more questions when someone asks a question!” Aizawa has roared at Class 1-A countless times. “If you don’t even stop to answer the first, then you’ll never know the answer any of them!”
But Class 1-A couldn’t help it.
Like the time Aizawa walked into homeroom to find his desk cracked in half and asked, “Who did this?”
Iida had to shout out, “How harsh would the punishment be?”
Ochako just had to follow with, “If it wasn’t on purpose, shouldn’t the punishment should be light?”
Mineta had to yell out, “Bystanders won’t get in trouble, right?”
And of course, Bakugou had to add in, “Can you fuckers shut the hell up?!!?”
“They won’t quit asking questions every two fucking seconds!” Aizawa always complains in the staff room. “They ask them at the speed of light like they’re babies that have never stepped outside!”
“But Class 1-A are just fledgling heroes,” All Might says in defense of them. “Since they’re new to the world of pros, it makes sense that they would have questions. Therefore, their curiosity is actually a positive trait!”
“That’s an excuse,” Aizawa snaps back. “They’re all just nosy.”
Every time he walks in to start homeroom, Class 1-A’s always buzzing with questions.
Once it was, “If you could switch quirks with anyone, who would it be?”
A notable one was, “What kind of idiot considers going on a hero mission together as a date?!!”
But the most interesting of all was when he opened the door and heard Midoriya meekly ask, “Does it count as first love even if the other person doesn’t love you back?”
Never before had a question actually stunned Class 1-A into silence.
There is no movement and no sound in the classroom. All eyes are trained on Midoriya, and a few mouths even hang open. For a second, Aizawa almost thought that someone had activated a time-stopping quirk.
But then, of course, the blissful silence is ruined by a bombardment of questions.
“Wow, who is it?”
“Is it someone from U.A.?”
“Is it someone in this class?!”
Again with all the fucking questions. Aizawa’s hand slams down on his poorly-repaired desk.
“Homeroom is starting,” he growls. All of them spin around to face the front of the classroom, but not a single pair of eyes are focused on him.
Aizawa thinks their habit of asking questions is annoying, but he knows the worst part is when their questions go unanswered.
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Bakugou Katsuki has questions.
First of all, what dumbass decided it was a smart idea to place his sleeping bag next to Deku in the training camp? His palms are itching to kill the fucker.
Katsuki has been dreading this since the second he saw the chart. He remembers Deku’s annoying sleeping habits from elementary school, and he’s not surprised to find out the dumbass hasn’t changed at all.
No matter what side of him Katsuki sleeps on, Deku always throws off his covers and flings his legs on top of Katsuki’s. One hand has landed so close to Katsuki’s face that blond eyelashes almost brush it when he blinks.
He’s too tired to set Deku’s pajamas on fire for being annoying, so Katsuki just settles for shoving off his heavy-ass legs. Deku responds by curling up, bringing his arms and legs closer together until he’s all balled-up.
God, how could this hopeless loser ever expect to impress someone? Deku was still just as fucking lame as he had been in elementary school, no matter what the other Class 1-A students thought of him. He hadn’t changed one damn bit.
Well, Katsuki’s mind somehow trails back to, Deku didn’t have a crush on anyone in elementary school. Or at least Katsuki couldn’t remember him having one.
Not like he could have had one without me noticing, Katsuki notes. He trailed behind me every single fucking day. Even during middle school, when they had drifted apart, Deku was still always going on about hero this and hero that. As far as Katsuki remembers, the only person who Deku talked about more than Katsuki himself was All Might.
So it was real shitting weird to hear the word ‘love’ come of Deku’s mouth. That side of Deku was new. It was so foreign and unfamiliar when Deku asked that weirdass question about first loves that for once in his life, Katuski had felt the heat in his palms completely dissipate.
Katsuki’s used to seeing Deku’s dorky grin and round green eyes widening in excitement. He’s seen Deku crumple in fear, seen Deku’s eyes gloss over with tears, seen Deku so frustrated that he looks like he’ll pull out his own hair.
Katsuki’s eyes stay trained on Deku, exploring every inch of him. Even back in elementary school, Deku had always looked reverent in slumber. His soft, pink lips are relaxed, and his chest rises and falls peacefully. There is no anger and no pain in his expression. Moonlight peeks in through the cracks of the window, illuminating Deku’s skin with a bright glow that contrasts heavily with endless waves of dark eyelashes. Katsuki’s used seeing to seeing that too.
What Katsuki’s never seen before though, is Deku pulling a sorry-ass excuse of a fake smile as he blatantly lies that his sort-of first love doesn’t matter anymore.
Was your first love from middle school? Katsuki asks silently. He scoffs at the thought because none of them were good enough to get into U.A. Deku wouldn’t love someone that lame, right? What kind of person would Deku fall in love with anyway?
What kind of person did Deku fall in love with, Katsuki corrects himself. His eyebrows narrow into a deep crease. Another side of Deku he has never seen before.
Katsuki watches as Deku’s dark eyelashes flutter and listens to the sound of his calm breathing. How had Deku changed so rapidly even when he was right in front of him?
Katsuki’s hands clench into fists, and his jaw hardens. How much more will Deku continue to change without Katsuki even noticing?
Would someone else get to see Deku in a light that even Katsuki hasn’t seen before? Would Deku’s smile for them be softer? Would Deku’s green eyes glow brighter? Would Deku’s laugh be louder?
Deku curls together more, bringing in his arms and legs even tighter.
He’s probably cold, Katsuki thinks. He reaches out to throw Deku’s covers back onto him and bends down to whisper one last question into Deku’s ear.
“Can you stay by my side?”
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Ochako Uraraka has questions.
First of all, what kind of person doesn’t love Midoriya Izuku?
Even now, when he’s just sitting under a tree and rereading his notes, she can’t describe him as anything but utterly adorable.
She’s all the way up on the third floor of the U.A. building, but she can spot Midoriya-kun’s mop of hair in the courtyard as easily as she does on all the other days that she looks for him. It’s become a habit to peek out the window and look for dark green hair every time she comes up here to look at the list of available part-time jobs.
He’s in his signature thinking pose again, of course. Dark eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, and a pair of steely yet gentle eyes are set in fierce determination. The smooth curve of his jawline traces down into the palm of the unscarred hand balancing his small chin. His other hand swiftly glides with a pen over paper as a new page is filled with neat handwriting.
Today he looks especially picturesque; cherry blossom petals are dancing around him, almost as if they are trying to read his notes as well. Ochako giggles as Midoriya-kun doesn’t even notice that a small bird has perched upon his shoulder.
How does Midoriya-kun even have time to fall in love, Ochako wonders, when he’s always burying his nose inside a notebook? Her hand subconsciously reaches up to the cold glass of the window.
It’s maddening and frustrating and stupid but she can’t help but ask: do you ever think of me?
Midoriya’s eyes, unwavering and unyielding, never leave the notebook. The small bird on his shoulder watches in curiosity for a few seconds before flying away.
Do you know how many times I’ve thought about holding your hand? Ochako wants to say. How often I think about seeing you again? How fast my heart beats when I’m near you?
The unanswered questions always threaten to spill out of her. Her hand itches to throw open the window and scream them across the courtyard. Her feet are anxious to run to him and throw herself into a huge hug so she can whisper them to him.
But her hypocrisy chokes her each time. After all, the one who has no time to fall in love is herself. The stack of bills from yesterday’s mail flashes in her mind again, and even more questions arise.
What would hurt more? A Midoriya that doesn’t love her back, or a Midoriya that she’d always have to leave behind? A Midoriya holding someone else’s hand, or a Midoriya whose bright eyes darken just the slightest every time that he watches her leave?
There’s an empty space right next to him under the tree’s shade, beckoning to her, almost mocking her. All it takes is five seconds to open the nearest window and two seconds to float down to meet Midoriya, who will greet her the world’s warmest smile.
The door to the Department of Management suddenly slams open, making Uraraka flinch. She turns to see a teacher pinning up new job listings on the bulletin board.
Uraraka’s hand leaves the window so she can walk over and snatch up the part-time job with the highest pay and the longest hours. On her phone, she starts dialing the number listed but pauses just before she hits the ‘Call’ button.
Once more, she glances out the window to look at Midoriya and silently asks one last question.
Will you wait for me?
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Todoroki Shouto has questions.
First of all, how is it possible for Midoriya Izuku to watch all five sparring matches at the same time?
They’re sitting together in the front row of the arena, but it still isn’t easy to see whose punch lands and whose kick is dodged. Yet somehow, Midoriya shouts out a “Good one, Yaoyorozu-san!” at the same time he jots down notes about Iida’s new techniques. Not two minutes later, Shouto swears that he had seen green eyes trained on Asui but is near deafened from the sudden “THAT WAS SO COOL, TOKOYAMI-KUN!” cheer.
It’s fascinating to say the least, but Midoriya’s enthusiasm is also incredibly convenient; thirty minutes have passed, and Midoriya hasn’t even noticed that Shouto has been watching him the whole time.
Seeing Midoriya’s green eyes light up with excitement has always been Shouto’s favorite part of the sparring matches, but that’s a secret he’ll never tell anyone else.
It’s fun to watch, but after thirty minutes, Shouto finds it almost ridiculous. Thirty whole minutes have passed, and Midoriya hasn’t even realized that Shouto is sitting next to him. A nod would have been enough. A smile would have been heavenly.
How is it possible for someone so close to feel so far away? Shouto finds himself asking.
Midoriya’s always studying a new hero or watching some battle, eyes either endlessly wandering or trained firmly on a notebook. Besides fleeting glances and a few short conversations, Shouto can’t even remember the last time they made eye contact.
That’s a lie. The memory burns in his mind, hotter than any flame he’s ever wielded. Even though it’s been months, all Shouto has to do is close his eyes, and he can see Midoriya Izuku, voice thick with fury and eyes brimming with raw anger, roaring across an entire field, “Where are you looking?!”
“No wonder,” Shouto mutters when he opens his eyes again. After being reprimanded so harshly, was it really so strange that he could never take his eyes off of Midoriya?
Didn’t that explain why Shouto has come to instinctively check if Midoriya’s in a room? Or how everytime he hears Midoriya laugh, Shouto peeks out of the corner of his eye to glimpse a radiant smile. Or why Shouto couldn’t tear his eyes away from Midoriya’s crestfallen expression after his question about first loves.
It’s only fair; he’s just doing what Midoriya asked of him.
(Or that’s the excuse Shouto will give to other people if they ask him why he’s always staring at Midoriya).
Midoriya Izuku is just so interesting. Midoriya Izuku is so captivating. Midoriya Izuku is always full of new surprises and wonders, and he’s just so lovely.
Shouto knows it’s hopeless to even consider the thought, but one last question lingers on his mind:
Could you only look at me?
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
No one ended up answering Midoriya’s question.
So it’s still on his mind when All Might asks him to eat lunch together, and Midoriya really wants an answer, and since All Might always has the answer to everything, he can’t help blurting out, “Does it count as first love even if the other person doesn’t love you back?”
All Might blinks in surprise for a few seconds. He sets down his chopsticks before cocking an eyebrow to ask, “Are you sure they don’t love you back?”