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Shoto can tell that his hair and his eyes are two different colors, but he, like the rest of the world, is born without being able to see what colors they are. Gray, black, and white are the only colors he knows, and they will be the only colors he knows until he meets someone, someone who, when he touches them, it changes everything. Soul mates are special, but that is all that he understands about it.
When he’s just learning about what colors are and when he will be able to see them, he asks his mother if she can see colors. He’s approximately three years old at the time and doesn’t have his Quirk yet, so he has more free time to do as he wishes. Even at that young of an age, he can tell that things are not always well between his parents, so it almost comes as a surprise when she says that she can.
“Really?” he asks, inching closer to her, wanting to know everything that he can. “Because of dad?”
There is a pause before she says, “No. Your...father still can’t see color,” and even though he doesn’t know why, that makes sense to him.
“Then who is it?”
“A good friend I haven’t seen in a long time.” She doesn’t have to ask him not to tell his father about this conversation, and he doesn’t feel the need to.
However, he does ask his father one day if he thinks he will ever be able to see color, and the man scowls and says, “Who says that I can’t?”
(Later, he finds out that his father is still learning which colors are which, and wonders if it was a recent development.)
Sometimes he asks his mother about his hair and his eyes, and his brothers and his sister, and her and his father, and everything around them. But when his Quirk develops, he’s told that he doesn’t have time for anything childish anymore, and his time to explore colors with his mother is cut considerably. Eventually, everything changes, and what little happiness he has is taken away from him in a flash of heat and pain, and he never gets to ask her about another color again.
~X~
Shoto remains mostly isolated from the world, and when he enters high school, he still only sees the world in black and white and gray. In the back of his mind, he remembers some of the colors that his mother taught him, but he doesn’t know when, or if, he will ever actually see them. From what he hears, some of his classmates can already see them, or begin to see them as the year progresses and they get closer, but he isn’t interested in that either.
On the day of the sports festival, he only has one goal in mind, and that is his victory. Anything else is secondary, if that, and he forms his team for the Cavalry battle based only on the fact that they will give him the best advantage. At that moment, Yaoyorozu is still someone that he sees as a capable classmate, and nothing more.
And then they touch, because they have to for this game, and everything changes.
She falters, and so does he, and the group collapses in a heap. Kaminari grumbles something and Iida asks what happened, and Shoto looks at Yaoyorozu, whose eyes have gone wide and whose mouth is still partially agape. She looks about as surprised as he feels, and her hair is still black, and so are her eyes, but her skin is a soft, light color, and her gym uniform is something brighter, and he’s only just now realizing that she is his soul mate.
“We’re fine,” he says quickly. Yaoyorozu is his soul mate, and he can see color now, and it’s kind of giving him a headache, but the cavalry battle is about to begin and they don’t have time for this. “I think I leaned too hard on Yaoyorozu and she lost her footing, right?”
“Right,” she replies, regaining her composure. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “Let’s just get ready.”
Everything is somewhat overwhelming, and he can’t help but try to get a frame of reference, glancing at some of the things he should know, like the sky. The sky, which is blue, his mother told him, like one of his eyes; like his father’s eyes. And then he tries to snap out of it, because that isn’t important right now. He can see the world in color, but if he doesn’t make it to the next round of the festival, then what does that matter? If he doesn’t prove himself today, then what does anything matter?
He and Yaoyorozu will just have to talk about this later.
~X~
Except the sports festival is far more eventful than even he could have predicted. He nearly loses to a boy with green hair- or, at least, it’s a similar enough shade to the grass that he thinks they fall into the same category- or maybe the victory isn’t as close as he thinks it is, but it certainly gives him a lot to think about. And Yaoyorozu is distracted by her own loss, and the discussion never comes.
When he finally has a chance to look in the mirror, he examines his red hair and his white hair, his gray eye and his blue eye, and when he goes to see his mother for the first time in years, it’s much easier to tell which features he shares with her.
In the visits after that, she begins to teach him colors all over again.
~X~
Some days, Yaoyorozu looks ready to say something to him, but she never does, and he knows that he should, but he doesn’t know what to say. His mother tells him that it should come easy to him once he tries, but he isn’t so sure about that. Interactions have never come easy to him.
And, in the aftermath of his internship, he already has so much on his mind that he isn’t sure if he needs anything else on his plate. School life is always so busy, how is anyone supposed to have time for this soul mate business?
He finds out that Midoriya can see color, but that the situation is complicated, so he doesn’t press the issue. Some of his classmates make it obvious that they can, or that they’re involved, while others do a good job keeping it themselves. He and Yaoyorozu fall into the latter category, so much so that weeks and weeks pass without either of them addressing it.
He doesn’t know how he should address it, and that is something that his mother won’t tell him. Though she tells him that he should, and though she tells him that it will come more easily than he thinks, she tells him that only can do it, and so, he’s on his own, and, with how easy it is to not talk at school, he doesn’t have to force himself to get up the nerve.
Even when they’re paired up for their final, there is so much else going on that it doesn’t feel appropriate to ask her about it. Shoto knows that he can be single-minded, and that this is exactly why they’ve made no progress, but he lets opportunity after opportunity pass him by.
The exam causes him to realize just how bad he is at communication and at reading people; he discovers that he doesn’t really understand Yaoyorozu at all, that he should have listened to her and should have realized that there was more going on beneath the surface.
At the end of it all, when they manage to pass together, he knows that now is his last chance. They still go to school together, and will still see each other regularly, but if he doesn’t say something now, then it won’t count when he does finally say something.
“I need to get going,” she says, after he confirms that she isn’t feeling sick in the aftermath.
“Wait, I...have a question,” he says. “Something I’ve been wondering for a little while, actually.”
“Y...yes?”
“Has your costume always been red?” It isn’t much, but it says enough, at least for now.
The smile that breaks out on her face tells him as much, and she says, “No, actually. I had it changed after...you know.”
“I know,” he agrees.
It’s a start.