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Mirio was, for as long as he could remember, single-mindedly focused. He had wanted to be a hero since he was a toddler. He could all but recall the endless summer days, when he and Tamaki would play, pretending to be well known heroes. Saving each other in turns, chasing seagulls away as if they were villains - which worked very well, since the seagulls would usually fight back and he would somehow need to defend his friend from them. In fact, that’s one of the ways he learned how to control his quirk; provoking the territorial birds and then proceeding to activate it whenever they attacked, satisfied when they would fly right through him, shrieking in angry dismay. Of course, he would sometimes time it wrong and instead be the target of the bird’s fury. Reason why he would claim, for whomever bothered to hear, that they were the devil’s spawns. And he had the scars to prove it.
And that was only one instance of his determination. He had needed to be that way, with his quirk being as it was, and the general disbelief and scrutiny the world threw at him regarding his dream. And yet, he never gave up. Plunging through challenges and against all odds, training his body and mind mercilessly until he had unwavering control over his abilities.
That is, until now.
She was from the class next door, and had been inadvertently sending most of Mirio’s days in disarray by simply existing. And did so effortlessly, with no realisation whatsoever of the devastating effects she had on him.
Crossing past her on the hallway became a complicated heart-fluttering ordeal. Observing her from afar turned into a daily habit. The simplest of hair-throws, the smallest of smiles, would send whatever he was holding right through his hand and into a splattering mess on the ground. A sudden cross of eyes and he would promptly find himself two floors below.
One for whom confidence came as naturally as air to the lungs, Mirio was the most confused by his own nerves. Even when he tried to talk to the girl, he ended up derailing into a verbal avalanche, that made as little sense to him as it did to her, leaving both devastatingly confused, although it seemed to entertain Nejire to no end, if her unveiled snickering was anything to judge by.
“Our Mirio is in love!” She teased pleasantly, after he made his now all too common walk of defeat back to his group of friends.
“Do you think she noticed?” He asked, smiling as to mask the dread the sheer thought caused him.
“I think the whole school knows at this point.” Nejire answered, almost distractedly. Then joined her hands together, like struck by a sudden thought, a playful smile lighting up her features: “There’s even a poll going around. But don’t worry, we are team Mirio!” She added, as if that settled any issues he might have, nudging Tamaki with her elbow.
Mirio left his head hang in defeat, wishing fiercely he could go back to simpler times when all he worried about was to become a hero and defeat villains. When it was all about training his quirk. Thinking back, maybe seagulls weren’t all that bad, after all. He would choose the demon spawns and a beating over this whole mess. Any day, any time.
“That’s it!” He slammed his fist against his palm in victory. “She’s like the seagulls!” he declared triumphantly. Seemingly recovered to his traditional excited demeanour, he walked off hurriedly, restless under the fuel of his idea. He understood now; this was training as well, and he had to face it like a challenge. He had to win her heart.
“Oh. She does sound a bit like a bird, I guess.” He heard Nejire say behind him in placid agreement, not sounding the least confused.
—–
The next day, Mirio was ready. Armed with a messy chimera made of varied internet tips – the ones he managed to make any sense of. Groomed and set into pretending his insides weren’t all mush and rattled nerves, he marched into his UA designated building with all the airs of a man on a mission. Before he could change his mind, he beelined towards the lockers where he knew he would find her, now that he had most of her schedule internalized down to the second.
There she was, organizing her locker absent-mindedly as she chatted to a friend. He swallowed dry, suddenly realizing how little his memory made her justice. She seemed to sparkle along with the sunlight, all her being light and ease in her own existence, and he wondered if that was some sort of magic or if he was really just that hopeless. He hesitated, almost turning and calling it a day. But he had made a decision, and he would follow through with it for all he was worth.
And so he did, approaching and placing his elbow against the wooden structure, supporting his head and weight with it. She had her back to him, but the aspiring hero hadn’t planned as far as what to say, wanting at first to be, well, noticed. Preferably looking cool. Yes, that would do.
He stood awkwardly locked in the position, the confident smile frozen in his face almost as if painted in place. After an absolute eternity – or one minute and fifty-three seconds, but who was counting? – her friend poked her shyly, pointing towards him. She was going to notice him, and his insides froze up and burned in a superb dichotomy that perfectly mirrored the jumbled state of his own thoughts.
“Hello!” He said, louder and more mechanically than he intended. “Isn’t this a—” She turned to look at him and their eyes met. That’s all it took, really. There he went, across the lockers and the ground, falling butt first against the concrete floor one story below, leaving behind his clothes and a great chunk of his dignity, no doubt. Luckily, Tamaki brought them both back to him a couple of minutes later.
Not a man to be intimidated and give up on first struggle – after all, how long did it take for him to face off the seagulls properly? –, Mirio pushed forward. The following days went by as smoothly as a messy and unplanned laboratory experiment could go, and usually bored the results one would expect of such disasters. Each and every single day he tried a different approach, a different plan, one more miraculous than the other. He tried everything the internet and his imagination had to offer. Showing his skills in the hopes of dazzling her, making himself a constant presence in her orbit, chocolates, flowers, the list of actions went on. Some of which didn’t end in outright catastrophe; a plus considering his growing track record.
At the end of the month Mirio found himself no closer to his objective, hopelessly out of ideas, and seemingly defeated. He stopped trying, to the chock of half the school. Instead he walked around a bit hunched over, uncharacteristically gloomy, proceeding with what was needed of him with a distant, disconnected energy. Nejire and Tamaki tried to cheer him up, in very different and characteristic ways, but he only payed them half a mind. He thought, maybe people around were right and he should just give up.
It was one of those days, when he was walking back home in the company of his sulking, that their paths crossed. Not on a forced, over the top, based on careful planning, manner. But as simple as him raising his head for a second, and the person who consumed all his thoughts was right in front of him, like a gift.
His heart squeezed in a confused mix of happiness and sorrow that he couldn’t quite describe, let alone name, but that had become a constant presence whenever he would see her. Part of him thought that maybe this was the moment to give his last try, and if it didn’t work… But his thoughts stopped midtrack, given pause by his other, more observant, part.
Because for the first time in a long while he paid attention to her and not to his thoughts and plans. And he saw a reflection of his own saddened state on the lines of her shoulders; as if she was bending towards herself, trapped in her own thoughts, head cast down.
Insecurities forgotten to give place for goodhearted worry, his body acted on its own accord and he approaches quietly, sitting down on the park bench beside her. She noticed, but didn’t raise her head. All things considered, that was a good thing, since his quirk had developed the habit of acting out whenever she looked at him.
“Hey. Are you alright?” He asked haltingly.
She nodded, not startled at his presence. “Yes. I just had a bad day at training. That’s all.” She sighed, and as she did the world answered in tune, a gentle breeze reaching them both, brushing the loose hair strands softly. At that she raised her face, looking straight ahead, a slight smile curving her lips; welcoming the gift. She looked beautiful and he thought, painfully, that he couldn’t give up, after all. It wasn’t in him. “I just feel like I try and try and I’m still behind everybody else. I—” she went on, looking at her hands with a contorted expression “I still can’t control my quirk properly so I keep thinking that maybe… maybe I should just give up. Maybe I’m not cut to be a hero, really.”
“That’s not true!” He exclaimed in sudden passion, much more loudly than what the situation demanded, but he didn’t care. Not this time. He stood up indignantly, looking at her firmly for the first time. “I’ve seen you train! I’ve been—” observing you like a creep “I notice you around. And I’m not about to let you talk yourself into thinking you are not worth it. I was told that all my life by everyone, but I knew I could do it. And so can you.” He declared boldly, squeezing his hands into fists. She was looking at him now, eyes wide. “I believe in you. You are incredible and I think the world can’t be the place we want it to become without you at our side. At my side too. As a hero.” He opened a large smile, truth behind every word, not attempting to hide his excitement. “My quirk is also really hard to control so I can help you with yours too. So don’t worry. I would give anything to you.”
Caught up in his beliefs and sheer spirit, it took him a second too late to realize exactly what he had just said. Very suddenly he stuttered, because now she was looking at him at a loss for words. Oh no. “I mean, like because I would love to help. Like, as a friend. It’s not like I’m trying anything else. No, but not like I wouldn’t like it, I would love it! I mean you are so amazing and we could, like, do hero work together in the future when we are not going on dates and watching movies. And I just being happy. But what I mean is that you can totally be a hero, it doesn’t need to be with me, but it can. No, I mean—” He derailed and came to a halt; her fingers pressed against his lips to hush him. While his brain was still trapped in the book he could say to go and try to save the whole situation, his heart definitely took note of her proximity, turning and skipping beats wildly. That was it then, he thought. He screwed it up.
But instead of the certain rejection he was fully expecting, she smiled instead. Sweet and bright. “Thank you, Mirio. I… I think I will do that. And it means a lot, that you believe in me.” He took in a deep breath, almost shaking with the adrenaline rush. “About the rest… Maybe we could start with an ice cream instead? And we can see about the dates and movies later on.” She suggested simply, laughing softly when he staggered, wide-eyed.
“There’s an ice cream place close to here. Where the seagulls gather.” He heard himself say, almost distantly. Still in shock.
Because by a stroke of luck – or some wild dream, and if that was the case, he would like to keep dreaming, thank you very much - they were both walking side by side, towards the ice cream place. Mirio couldn’t quite make sense of the whole thing, but his entire being was covered with a glowing sensation, warm and fuzzy and oh-so-good. He felt like an idiot, but a happy idiot.
“You know, about that poll…” She started, inquisitively. He jumped on the thought, having completely erased from his brain the casual information he had been told before. He fussed, scratching his head and smiling widely, albeit apologetically.
“Right! I’m so sorry about it! My friends…” Nejire, he corrected inwardly. “…they have a weird sense of humour. I will tell them to call it off.”
“No! Don’t yet. I mean…” She exclaimed, laughing easily, and the sound was like music to his ears. “I was going to say that my bet was on you, you know.”
Say what now? He stopped, mouth hanging open in dismay. She looked at him, apparently finding something funny in his expression, since she smiled mischievously. Taking a step back in his direction, she reached out and held his hand, interlocking their fingers together and squeezing it warmly.
“But I think that somehow I’m already collecting my wagers.”