Chapter Text
Tenya is homesick.
It feels more complex than that, but it really isn’t. In spite of all of the odds and ends he brought from his childhood bedroom, he still feels unsteady in the dorms. There are so many little details that made up the feeling of home that are missing. His father turns on the news when he gets home from work and leaves it on until he goes to bed; Tenya feels the absence of the reporter’s muffled voice acutely while he does his homework. He’d neglected to bring along any of his mother’s potpourri, so his room doesn’t smell right after a day or two. Nobody comes up directly at 7 to pull him out of his work long enough to eat, and he doesn’t notice until he’s so hungry his head hurts. His father doesn’t leave him sticky notes on the fridge. His mother doesn’t fret over the length of his bangs every morning.
Tenya has always been very family-oriented, but that didn’t really become obvious until he was suddenly cut off from them. They text regularly, and he has a weekly skype call with Tensei to look forward to on Saturdays, but it isn’t the same has having them close. He misses them.
It doesn’t help with the vague cloud of unease that’s taken over since the fight with Stain. Tenya’s morals are carefully modeled on Tensei’s, and being pulled from his family home so soon after discovering that he’s been failing to follow them all this time is taking a toll.
Tenya isn’t sure who he is anymore.
*
Things start to change about three weeks after they move in. Tenya is studying, his class notes laid out neatly next to the notes he’s been taking on the reading, when someone knocks on his door. He sets his mechanical pencil down before getting up to answer it, because it’s rude to answer the door holding something.
It’s Midoriya, as bright and inviting as usual. His smile serves as a warm greeting even before he speaks.
“Sorry to bother you!” he says, without waiting for Tenya to greet him properly. He has a cardboard box in his hands, which he promptly explains. “There was a delivery for you, and I thought it’d be easier to just bring it to you than to tell you to come get it.”
“That does sound more efficient,” Tenya agrees easily, taking a step back into his room. “Would you care to come in? I have cold juice in the fridge.”
Midoriya is dressed for exercise, which means he probably found the package while coming inside from one of his workouts. He seems to favor the front yard as a location for those. It’s good manners to offer a guest refreshments.
“If that’s okay!” Midoriya says, bowing quickly. “Thank you!”
Tenya carefully places his package on his desk and walks over to the fridge to get Midoriya a can of orange juice. It isn’t strictly his favorite drink, but it has a lot of vitamin C, and now that they’re living communally, they have to watch out for getting sick.
Midoriya takes it gratefully, holding the can with both hands.
“Thanks, Iida,” he says, smiling. He closes his eyes at the peak of it, which draws attention to the scattering of freckles on his cheeks. It occurs to Tenya, not for the first time, that his friend is a handsome fellow indeed.
“You are quite welcome, Midoriya-kun! Would you mind terribly if I opened my package?” Tenya asks, gesturing with his hands for emphasis. Midoriya’s eyes follow their motions, then dart back up to Tenya’s face. He nods.
“Go ahead! Is it from your family?”
Tenya crosses back over to his desk, examining the address labels on the package.
“Yes, it was sent from my parents’ house. I wasn’t expecting anything, so I couldn’t even hazard a guess at what they’ve sent me.”
“My mom’s been sending me cookies once a week since we moved in,” Midoriya says, his tone somewhere between sheepish and fond. Tenya nods approvingly.
“You have a good relationship with her. I’m happy to hear that.”
Midoriya laughs, the sheepishness fading.
“Yeah, she’s pretty great.”
When Midoriya doesn’t show any sign of carrying this thread of conversation any further, Tenya takes the letter opener from his tin of pens and other utensils. He makes quick work of the tape on the box and opens it up.
His mother has wrapped whatever’s inside in one of their spare bathroom towels. The smell of the house clings to them, and it hits Tenya right in the gut. Suddenly, he misses his family so much that it hurts, prickling at his eyes and squeezing his chest.
He takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. His vision swims a little.
“Iida?”
Midoriya notices. It isn’t that Tenya expected him not to, because Midoriya is very observant. Maybe he just wasn’t ready for it. He looks up from the towel-wrapped gift and realizes, quite suddenly, that his vision is off because he’s crying.
“Ah, my apologies, I…”
Tenya pushes his glasses out of the way so he can wipe away the tears, embarrassed. There’s nothing to cry about.
“It’s nothing important, I assure you,” Tenya says, holding out his hands in a placating gesture.
“No, it’s okay. Talk to me? It’s important to me,” Midoriya assures him, his eyebrows knit together into a perfect expression of concern. Tenya swallows hard.
“It’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t mind, really,” Midoriya says. He sounds sincere, and he sets his juice down on Tenya’s desk so he can put a hand on his arm. Tenya feels a stab of guilt for worrying him; he knows Midoriya still thinks about the last time Tenya didn’t tell him how upset he was about something. Still, there’s simply no comparison between what happened to Tensei and Tenya feeling homesick.
“My mother wrapped this in towels from the house. I admit, I’ve been feeling rather homesick, and the sudden smell of my parents’ house was a bit too much,” Tenya confesses, gesturing as he says it. Midoriya seems to relax a bit as he realizes that Tenya hasn’t been ignoring some serious issue.
“That isn’t ridiculous. I miss my mom too,” Midoriya says, smiling softer this time. It’s brief, though, because he almost immediately frowns as he gives Tenya’s room a once-over. “If you’re lonely, it probably isn’t a good idea to stay in here alone. Why don’t you come study with Uraraka and me? Todoroki might come too, if we ask.”
“Yes… You know, that sounds like an excellent idea!” Tenya says. It makes Midoriya smile again, and the mood in the room takes an upward turn. “Oh, I should bring juice!”
Tenya is off across the room immediately.
“Um, are you going to see what’s in the towels?” Midoriya asks, pulling Tenya back down to reality. He returns to his desk and his friend, canned juice in hand.
“Right! Yes!” He sets the juice down and carefully unwraps the towels. The smell of his mother’s potpourri still pulls on his heart, but at least he doesn’t cry this time.
His parents have sent him two glass bottles of vitamins, carefully padded by the towels. He recognizes the oversized pills; this is Tensei’s special quirk-maintenance formula, specifically made to work with their family’s quirks.
There’s a note, in Tensei’s handwriting.
been meaning to get you some of these! a hero needs to take care of their body, so make sure you take them!
“It’s from my brother,” Tenya manages to say after a long moment spent staring at the scrap of paper. Midoriya understands the significance of that, and it shows on his face. “These are his supplements.”
“It-- It must be his way of showing his support!”
Tenya swallows around the lump in his throat. Midoriya isn’t wrong, but it doesn’t make it sting any less that these were probably Tensei’s own supply. Receiving them this way carries the unintended message that Tensei doesn’t need them anymore.
Midoriya puts his hand on Tenya’s shoulder.
“Hey,” he says gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Tenya shakes his head.
“No. Not at this moment. It still weighs on me, but I’m not sure I can fully express my thoughts right now. Besides, isn’t Uraraka waiting for us?”
Midoriya doesn’t look entirely pleased with this answer, but he doesn’t push it.
“Promise me you’ll talk to me if it gets to be too much?”
A warm feeling sinks into Tenya’s chest.
He nods.