Archive of Our Own

Twenty-one years old and Izuku’s love life is woefully non-existent. Ochako keeps trying to take him out to all sorts of events, dragging him into social gatherings in hopes of finding him a good match but as much as he enjoys her company, it’s getting a little exhausting. Izuku is a hopeless romantic, sue him, so all the admittedly attractive guys and girls she introduces him to, as wonderful as they may be, just never seem to meet his expectations of a relationship.

He’s no stranger to dating, don’t get him wrong, but things just never really last. One’s too intense, the other too laid back, another too obsessed with himself and another too obsessed with everyone else. Some don’t put in enough of an effort, others are clearly not long-term relationship material, many just don’t really fit in with him. Izuku just can’t seem to settle with anyone, and not for lack of trying.

Perhaps he’s the problem. He’s definitely the problem, who is he kidding.

Izuku is waiting for ‘The One’ even if he doesn’t exactly know what that means. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, so to speak, but he is convinced that he will know as soon as he finds it. It’s a fairy tale notion of love at first sight, or if not that, then a sense that the moment they get to know each other everything just clicks into place and the world finally feels right. Everyone keeps telling him that he’s waiting for the impossible, holding on to unrealistic standards of a person that just doesn’t exist, but damn it… He’s still young and he has time to lose this spark inside him that makes him believe in something just a little magical.

He can settle when he’s old and desperate.

“That’s it, I officially give up trying to find you a partner.” Ochako huffs, sinking into the couch and shoving him further to the far-right end with her feet. “I have introduced you to pretty much all of Japan and no one seems to live up to your expectations.”

“You haven’t told me to date Yaomomo yet.”

“Back off playboy, she’s mine!”

Izuku chuckles, pulling out his phone and deleting the dating app Ochako had insisted he try as well. Without warning, she snags the device away from his hands, shoving her foot in his face when he attempts to lean over her to get it back. Pushing her leg away with a disgruntled noise, Izuku glares at his friend but resigns to his fate.

“What are you doing now?”

“Well,” She starts, grinning mischievously. “Since real people don’t seem to satisfy your high-maintenance needs—”

“I am not high-maintenance! I’m just… I want something special, Ochako-chan! Is that so wrong?”

“Uh-huh, sure thing, lover-boy.”

Ochako tosses him his phone back and he blinks at the new app on his home screen. The little icon is a small image of a young man’s face surrounded by sparkly stars, the left half covered by a flowy, blood-red fabric. The part of his face that is uncovered is… quite beautiful, as cartoon drawings go. He has a pale complexion, silky-looking white hair—one of his anime boy weaknesses—and a soft grey eye paired with thin red lips.

Izuku narrows his eyes. “What is this?”

“An Otome.” Ochako smirks.

Pausing for a moment, Izuku’s glare turns icier. “A dating sim? Really?”

“What? Maybe a fictional boy will finally make you happy! The app has great reviews from a bunch of sixteen-year-old school girls. But I guess it’s more like a visual novel, you only get one character.”

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“Oh, but you love me anyway!”

Izuku lets out an exasperated sigh, throwing a pillow at her face and forgetting the app entirely until he finally crashes into bed later that night. At first, he just thought about deleting it, but when he looks at the icon once again, the white-haired character staring back at him with unrivalled intensity, Izuku melts a little on the inside. What’s the harm anyway, it’s just a dumb game. He can just delete it as soon as he gets bored of it, like everything else.

He types in his name, starts up the story mode and just rolls with it. The player character appears to be an aspiring photographer trying to get by and it’s their first day as a shoot assistant for the main character, who is apparently a model.

[I’m so nervous… Todoroki Shouto is one of the biggest stars in the business and I must make a good impression if I ever want to make it in this world.]

The screen fills with fake magazine spreads and covers featuring the character from the app’s icon and Izuku is surprised to see his full image. The left half of his hair is a deep, fiery red, split perfectly down the middle from the snow-white half, and his left eye is a beautiful ocean blue rather than grey. Izuku curses under his breath, wondering if Ochako knows he has a soft spot for redheads as well and this is just her way of mocking him to the fullest extent, mashing both of his biases into one.

Heaving a sigh, he keeps clicking through, getting the so-called star his water and taking it to his dressing room. It seems his character’s jitters affect their manners, seeing as they simply walk in without even knocking. The screen shakes to mimic a crash, the action cues letting him know that he dropped the glass in shock but not really showing him why until the next image pops up. The main character, Todoroki Shouto, Izuku supposes, is caught staring back at him (well, the player) with a makeup sponge halfway to his face.

Now, given that he’s a model, Izuku wouldn’t have found this to be so shocking at all—he isn’t even undressing or anything—, but a little below his left eye, peeking from behind splotches of concealer, sits an angry-red patch of bumpy skin. Options appear before Izuku then and he just stares.

[Leave without a word]

[Apologise for not knocking]

[Ask about his scar]

Who in their right mind would just ask about the scar?! Eye twitching incredulously, Izuku picks the polite option and apologises to the model, but apparently that must be the wrong choice because he gets the door shut in his face without a single word in return. Well, that’s a little rude of him, too.

Pursing his lips, Izuku keeps playing through, watching as the player returns to their duties until Todoroki gets to the room, the scar completely hidden under a thick layer of makeup. Izuku wonders how realistic that might be, surely people would notice the strange texture on his face, but it’s just a game, so he gives it a pass.

As the shoot continues, the model keeps staring the player’s way and getting called on by the photographer for being distracted, eventually getting the attention of another character that suddenly bursts into the screen. Just one look at the large man and Izuku immediately decides he doesn’t like him, even having hair that same deep shade of red as Todoroki that Izuku loves so.

This man is loud, demanding, and he downright humiliates Todoroki in front of everyone, calling his behaviour unprofessional and unworthy of someone of his status. What a pompous ass.

“I apologise, father. It won’t happen again.”

Inhaling sharply, Izuku props himself up on his elbows, eyes shooting wide-open as he stares at the screen, outraged. This insufferable douchebag is Todoroki’s father? And he talks to him like that?! Izuku wishes the game would give him an option to tell him off, but it seems as if his character is a little too meek to say anything at all. Bad programming, right there. Or just bad storytelling.

In all honesty, that alone should have probably been enough for Izuku to stop playing it, but for some reason, he continues, going through the first half of the photoshoot until Todoroki leaves to take a break. As soon as an option pops up to either leave him be or try to take him some refreshments once again, Izuku jumps at the opportunity to talk to the model. This time, he remembers to knock.

“Come in.” Izuku clicks the door to open it. “Oh. It’s you.”

[“Are you okay?”]

[“I’m sorry that happened to you.”]

Izuku cringes. No, those two are too forward.

[“I thought you did great out there.”] That’s almost like he’s trying too hard.

[“Your father is an asshole.”]

Now, that’s what Izuku calls a right option. The character sprite for Todoroki turns from a neutral expression to a barely-there smile, his eyes shining in amusement.

“Not everyone has the courage to say that. It could get you fired on the spot.”

“It’s just the truth, isn’t it?” The player character continues, and Todoroki continues to smile. Izuku feels accomplished.

“I suppose you’re right. Sorry about the way I slammed the door earlier. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

The game then offers him the same stupid option to ask about Todoroki’s scar, and Izuku doesn’t hesitate to pick the alternative of pretending he doesn’t know what he means. Clearly, Todoroki is self-conscious, so prying that out of him when they don’t even know each other just because they bonded over a mutual dislike of the douche-nozzle who sired him is simply ludicrous.

Izuku knows he made the right choice when Todoroki’s sprite shifts to an even softer expression and he graciously takes the refreshments before the player leaves again. When Todoroki returns, the second half of the shoot seems to go much smoother, and the pictures that show up on Izuku’s screen feature a few small smiles, the ones he had seen when the game began having been nothing but (although beautiful) quite emotionless expressions.

At the end of the photoshoot, the player is helping pack up the photography equipment, admiring the sophisticated camera and the various lenses, when Todoroki approaches, startling them into nearly knocking down one of the light stands. Todoroki stops the player from downright falling, offering an apology for scaring them, and Izuku finds himself smiling at his phone, you know, like an idiot.

“You seem fascinated by these things.”

Izuku opts to be open about his character’s supposed dreams rather than play it off as just a silly hobby and Todoroki looks impressed—or maybe it’s just intrigued, his expressions are so subtle that he can’t be too sure. The odious father shouts at Todoroki to hurry up and the model says his goodbyes. The screen fades to black and Izuku assumes that might be the end of the chapter (or whatever it’s called), but then a picture appears of a sticky note hanging from the player’s bag with Todoroki’s name and number.

[Take it]

[Throw it away]

Izuku can’t click the first option fast enough, the end of the short episode finally showing up and taking him back to the title screen where the next one unlocks. In spite of himself, Izuku finds that the game wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be. Still, it’s getting pretty late and he has to work at the café in the morning, so he locks his phone and settles comfortably in bed, letting the blanket of sleep take over him soon after.

***

As much as Izuku doesn’t want to admit it, the game has him a lot more intrigued than it should. The next day, he is stuck at work the whole morning before he has to go to class. It doesn’t really help that he is sharing his shift with Kacchan of all people. His childhood friend is already too eager to run with any possible reasons to make fun of him and his interests, adding ‘unironically playing an Otome’ to that list is just asking for early death, so Izuku makes a point of avoiding even so much as touching his phone the whole time.

On the way to the university, though, he manages to play through the first bit of the next episode. It starts off with the character being late for the next shoot and not being able to find the manager’s number, realising that they still have Todoroki’s note among their things. The choice to warn the model is all too easy, even if he thinks that it likely won’t change the outcome very much.

Much to his surprise, Todoroki responds to the text almost immediately, assuring him that he will try to delay the shoot as much as possible. The screen shows him two different options then, and Izuku wonders what the difference might be between them. One is just a simple thank you, straight-forward enough, but the other tells Todoroki that he doesn’t have to do that for him. Logically speaking, that first option makes a lot more sense, given how the lateness will likely not be noticed, which would help him a lot in this situation.

But curiosity tugs at Izuku and he picks the second one, itching to know what might happen. Would this be one of the endings? He gets fired for being tardy and that’s that.

Todoroki: Why not?

Me: What if you get in trouble?

Todoroki: Better me than you. They can’t fire me.

Izuku pauses at those words. While that may be true, he can’t help but think of that awful man and how he might react to Todoroki doing anything he may not approve of. He is faced with two more options.

[Haha you’re right]

[That doesn’t mean you should have to suffer for it.]

It’s not really a choice, in Izuku’s opinion.

Todoroki: …

Todoroki: Suit yourself.

Izuku notices just in time that he should be getting off on the next stop, saving his meagre progress and rushing out to get to his first class.

The whole time he is bouncing his leg impatiently, Todoroki’s almost petulant answer making his stomach twist into nervous knots, which is kind of ridiculous. It’s just a game, why does he care what the outcome of these few decisions might be. Why is he worried he might get an early ending? He can just try again right away.

Well, or not. He doesn’t need to know what happens next, he has self-control.

Except he doesn’t. Izuku is becoming a little too invested in this game, but he will be damned if he lets any one of his friends find out, especially Ochako. This thing was clearly just her kidding around, if she discovers that he is actually starting to care about the plot of this dumb dating sim, he will never live it down. The problem is that keeping his blossoming obsession secret means he can’t indulge said obsession as often as he needs to.

No, Izuku doesn’t need to. He just really, really wants to. Totally different things.

As soon as he gets back on the train home, Izuku plans to get right back to the app, but rush-hour means he can’t find a seat and is instead sandwiched between total strangers barely able to move a finger let alone take out his phone. So, he has to wait until he’s home, but Ochako is there and it’d be a little rude to not spend at least some time with her, she even made them dinner.

By the time he finally gets to his bedroom, it’s already late, but thankfully tomorrow is his day off from work and he doesn’t have classes in the morning, so what’s a little bump to his sleep schedule, anyway? He’s a working university student, all-nighters are common for him. Besides, he just wants to get through this next chapter, it shouldn’t be too long anyway.

Jumping right back to the story, Izuku bites on his bottom lip, waiting for the black screen to fade into the default studio setting. As soon as the first action cue pops up, the screen does that aggressive shake and Todoroki’s father shows up, his face twisted in an angry scowl. Izuku’s heart jumps to his throat when the character addresses him in all caps and bold font, then, suddenly, Todoroki’s sprite appears, shoving his father’s off to the side.

“There you are. Did you get that thing I asked?”

Izuku isn’t stupid or curious enough to try the dim-witted option, immediately pretending to know exactly what Todoroki is talking about and offering to give it to him right away. The older man’s expression switches to one of annoyed confusion, Todoroki’s impassive one remaining as he tells the player to follow him to his dressing room.

“That should do the trick.”

This time, Izuku chooses to thank him for his help, finding that telling him he shouldn’t have done something like that would be more than a little ungrateful and uncalled for.

“It’s nothing. Though, you should probably actually give me something, in case he asks.”

Oh? Izuku inspects the options he’s given carefully, figuring they must be what his character is carrying in their bag. The first one is merely a magazine with Todoroki on the cover, so that wouldn’t make much sense at all. Not really knowing why, he lingers on the other two, trying to guess which one would get him the best result. The bottle of electrolyte water would be logical, considering it’s something Todoroki might realistically ask for if he was feeling dehydrated before a shoot. But Izuku can’t help feeling drawn to the option to give Todoroki an album of photos he took—the player character took.

Figuring there really isn’t much he can lose, Izuku picks the album, waiting with baited breath for Todoroki’s reaction, clicking past the many ellipsis before he actually gets to text.

“Just what I wanted.” Todoroki says, his sprite taking on that soft expression once again.

Izuku’s heart rate picks up and he mentally kicks himself.

That exchange manages to avoid him any trouble, and the game skips forward in time just when the photoshoot is starting to another text exchange where Todoroki says that he is quite impressed with the photos in the album. It’s stupid to feel bashful at praise that isn’t really directed at him, but Izuku can’t help it, the corners of his mouth tugging as he goes through a quite casual conversation between the characters, picking a few options here and there that continue filling responses in the same line of thought.

They all seem pretty inconsequential, yet Izuku still does his best to consider each one, always picking the ones that feel like they align the most with his own personality, until he finally gets to something that feels like it might be important.

Todoroki: Would you like to have me as a subject to your photos?

The two options can’t be more direct than ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but Izuku pauses before actually clicking, unsure of which one to go with. On the one hand, it might be overstepping to say yes, but on the other, Izuku doesn’t want to give the impression that he doesn’t find Todoroki an interesting subject. Which, all things considered, doesn’t even begin to make sense, because Todoroki is just a program. Whatever Izuku chooses, the answers he gets in return are nothing but code, the model doesn’t harbour any real feelings on the matter.

Izuku decides to just be honest; if this was a real situation, he probably wouldn’t have the guts to be so upfront, but it isn’t, so he can just tell Todoroki that he would very much like to take photos of him. Who wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous—for a fictional, drawn character, that is.

Why does he have to keep reminding himself of that?

Me: Yes

Me: But I don’t have a professional studio or anything. I wouldn’t do you justice.

Well, Izuku hadn’t quite expected the answer to go that way, but he can’t exactly say it’s not a valid point.

Todoroki: Studios are overrated. Besides, you’ve seen what makeup and filters can do.

“The scar, huh?” Izuku mumbles, clicking his tongue. Rather than pick the option that mentions it yet again, Izuku decides to go with the other.

Me: I prefer to capture natural beauty, not artificial.

Todoroki: …

Todoroki: I’m not so sure I’m the best subject anymore then.

Those words stab right through Izuku’s chest and he frowns at his screen, immediately clicking the selection that tells Todoroki his image is one he would love to capture for eternity, worthy of admiration.

Todoroki: You wouldn’t say that if you saw it up close.

Izuku doesn’t even have to think on the next choice.

Me: I disagree.

Todoroki: Then I’ll show you.

The scene shifts then, only a text box showing over a sea of black. [What did I get myself into?]

Izuku can’t help but ask himself the same exact thing, clicking through to the next segment as his curiosity piques. The two of them meet again in what Izuku assumes to be the player character’s home, a simple background with a cleared-out floor and the sun shining brightly through a window to the side. Todoroki appears with the same sprite as ever, Izuku notes, the scar still covered by concealer.

After Todoroki returns the photo album to him, Izuku offers him some tea but he politely refuses, urging him to get right down to business with a claim that he doesn’t actually have much time. The scene continues with the character setting up their camera and taking a few pictures before looking over them, the choice between telling Todoroki that they are perfect and that they lack something presenting itself. Izuku can’t help but notice how the expression in the collage of photos on his screen is too much like the manufactured lack of emotion he had seen in the beginning, so he goes with the line that reflects as much.

“I told you that you wouldn’t find natural beauty with me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Izuku mutters, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“You just said the pictures are missing something.”

Izuku blinks for a moment at the speech box. Did he just…

Shaking his head at the silly thought, Izuku tells himself it’s just the continuation of Todoroki’s line.

“They’re missing you.” Izuku selects, seeing Todoroki’s eyes widen a fraction on his sprite.

“But I’m right here.”

“Not the real you. You put on a mask for the camera.” The character reinforces, reflecting Izuku’s own thoughts.

Todoroki reaches for the left side of his face for a frame then returns to his default sprite, a thoughtful hum appearing in the speech bubble that Izuku can’t shake the feeling of being just a little sad. The text shows a phone ringing and Todoroki picks up a call, expression shifting to mild irritation before he announces that he has to leave.

Before he fully disappears, however, he says that he wants to do this again and Izuku is all too happy to tell him that he looks forward to when that might be. That seems to be the end of that chapter, the game going back to the title screen and unlocking the following entry. As much as Izuku craves to know how the story might develop, he forces himself to go to sleep again, telling himself he can do more in the morning after he goes to the gym.

***

It seems as if the world doesn’t want him to delve too deeply into the game’s story because the next day Izuku doesn’t find a single moment to himself until he once again crashes face-first onto his mattress. As soon as he was out of the gym, he got called into work because the person at that shift had to go to the hospital and his boss knew he wasn’t actually busy that morning. The shift ran late and he had to rush to his first class, having to even skip lunch just to make it in time.

After he left campus, he got a text from Ochako asking him to pick some groceries up at the store since she got stuck at work too and didn’t have enough time to go herself. Once he got home, he had to actually help her prepare dinner as well, even if she is a much better cook than he could ever aspire to be. Then, after they were done with washing the dishes and Izuku was ready to walk to his room to go back to the app so that he could uncover its mysteries, Ochako reminded him that their favourite show’s new episode aired that night and he wasn’t about to break their weekly tradition.

That would just be suspicious.

By the time he makes it to bed, he’s honestly quite exhausted, and as uncomfortably hot as his curiosity is burning, Izuku can’t find the energy to look at his phone for another minute longer, just burying himself under the covers and sleeping the rest of the night away.

The next moment Izuku manages to sneak away from prying eyes is on his lunch break, foregoing an actual meal by just buying a sandwich off a vending machine and hiding in a secluded corner of the campus library where usually no one seems to go. Izuku found that blessed spot sometime in his second year, when he just couldn’t find a quiet place to study for his finals and it was starting to drive him insane. He just happened upon this spot one day when looking for a specific book, having been too lazy to actually go back to his usual table and just sitting on the nearest one to the shelf he finally found the massive manual.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur and Izuku had only realised he hadn’t been interrupted by a friend or anyone else at all when he got a call from Ochako asking him where in heavens he was. Apparently, he had studied right through dinner and the library was about to close and he had no idea. From that point on, that place became a haven for Izuku whenever he needed some time alone at the university, be it for studying, working on projects or simply just wanting a little time away from everything, doing his own thing.

Considering how he sometimes gets distracted with the time here, Izuku sets an alarm on his phone so that he doesn’t miss his next class and loads up the app and the next chapter of the story.

Right away, the scene comes up on the generic studio background, Todoroki’s sprite showing up on the next click with his default neutral expression but seemingly looking away from him.

“It’s been a while, huh?”

Izuku furrows his brows at Todoroki, re-reading the words over and over to make sure he’s seeing it right. That’s weird it’s almost like… Just like before, he shakes the thought away with a dismissive scoff and clicks through to the next line.

“I had a few shoots out of the country so it was hard to stay in touch.”

Right, that makes sense. Izuku feels silly for even entertaining such a weird notion for even a second, deciding to lighten the mood by asking Todoroki if he really wasn’t just avoiding him rather than the generic ‘it can’t be helped’ line. The sprite shifts to Todoroki covering his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes diverting to the lower left corner of the screen as a soft pink flush stretches across his right cheek. Izuku notes that the blush doesn’t follow through to the left side and he marvels at the attention to detail, even as his heart is doing a weird flutter in his chest at the sight.

“It’s not like that. I really was busy, barely had time to even look at my phone.” He excuses himself, returning to the usual position though his expression still reflecting the mild embarrassment. “But I suppose I could have said something, especially after you didn’t get any good photos. Let me make it up to you.”

Excitement bubbles in Izuku’s chest, completely ignoring the polite dismissal in turn for the question of what he means by that. The pink on his cheek turns just a shade darker and Izuku has a hard time keeping the tiny squeal in his throat, not wanting to call any attention to him and his ‘secret spot’. God, this really is getting pathetic, isn’t it?

“How about some coffee? Maybe tomorrow?”

Izuku says yes in a flash, because of course he does. The subtle shift in Todoroki’s expression fills Izuku’s stomach with a million butterflies, a small upturn of his lips now paired with that pretty dust of colour over his cheek taking years off of him. While it may be strange to give a fictional character so much life in his mind, it’s impossible for Izuku to ignore how real he feels in these little reactions. He almost feels bad for thinking this game wouldn’t amount to much in the beginning.

Granted, it’s not like it’s a masterpiece or anything… But it’s still quite nice and, well, maybe he’s getting obsessed with it, but maybe something about it just resonates with Izuku on a more personal level. He truly wants to know more about Todoroki, and even though he could probably just go online and look at a synopsis or a playthrough, where’s the fun in that? He had never been one to reap rewards without putting in the work.

The scene shifts once more, skipping to Todoroki’s break yet again, and Izuku keeps following the story enthusiastically. The photographer compliments Todoroki on the recent photos, saying something about how perfectly he is managing to convey the ethereal essence of infatuation that the product he’s promoting is meant to entice in the consumer. Upon reading the [Is he looking at me…?] that follows that comment, Izuku’s heart starts drumming in his chest, like an excited puppy bouncing just at the sight of its beloved companion, and he bites down on his bottom lip. So stupid, Izuku, stop it…

The moment shatters as soon as Izuku continues tapping the screen and the picture quakes anew, the image of an overflowing kettle tipped over on the table replacing the default background. A series of exclamation marks pops up as Todoroki’s sprite gets a haunted look on his face and he disappears off to the right side of the screen before his father shows up all of a sudden. His irate expression makes Izuku feel sick as he shouts after the model and vanishes right after Todoroki.

Izuku is ready to keep advancing through the chapter when the text tells him the rest of the shoot is cancelled and rescheduled without a proper explanation, but the alarm he had set finally goes off, signalling his short break’s end. Cursing under his breath, Izuku actually considers skipping the next class, yet common sense wins out and he rushes out after saving, spending the rest of the day wondering why Todoroki had such an intense reaction to such a simple accident.

He has the afternoon shift at work today too, which means he won’t be able to find out until he goes home yet again. The rest of the day is spent trying to push down an irrational anxiety spurred by even more absurd concern. Izuku couldn’t justify these visceral feelings if he tried, but thankfully no one actually asks him why he’s so fidgety as he goes about the customer’s orders or closing up. It’s mostly because Kacchan doesn’t actually care and Izuku hasn’t messed anything up to get their boss’ attention.

The second he closes the door to his room after showering, Izuku doesn’t waste another moment to log back into the game, not even bothering to put on clothes as he sits cross-legged on his bed and taps the screen impatiently. He chooses to send Todoroki a casual text at first, but the model doesn’t answer him, and Izuku is faced with the choice to try again or let him be. Izuku doesn’t want to come across as desperate or annoying… but it doesn’t matter because this isn’t real. Which is exactly why he shouldn’t be this worried to begin with!

Groaning loudly at his own inability to handle human emotions, Izuku tries one more time, his heart kickstarting into overdrive when a response pops up soon after.

Todoroki: I’m fine. The shoot was rescheduled, right? I’ll see you there.

“So cold…” Izuku actually shivers slightly, his mouth curving downwards as he continues to tap on the text boxes that follow.

When the generic studio background shows up on his screen once again, Izuku is a little nervous about what might happen next. When Todoroki shows up, he remains distant, hardly even addresses him, and when they stop for a little while so that he can fix his makeup and change outfits, Izuku discreetly follows him to his dressing room. Well, the player does, he really needs to stop this. There isn’t a response when they knock, and the result is the same when he clicks to try one more time.

[Leave]

[Try the door]

The door is locked when Izuku attempts to open it and he is left with no choice but to click through to go away. When the photoshoot continues, Todoroki is showered with compliments from those involved, comments of ‘perfect’, ‘fierce’, ‘beautiful’ being thrown left and right. Even so, Izuku can only fixate on how sad his sprite looks, a soft sheen to his eyes that seems to paint the default expression in a whole new light.

His chest aches for him, he wants to know what happened, why he is suddenly so downcast despite everyone around him bathing him in praise. He looks… lonely. The player character takes a picture of him on their phone when no one else is looking, and the image that fills his screen breaks his heart just a little. It almost looks like he is cut off from the rest of the world, and in the background he can spot his father’s displeased scowl, gaze locked on his head and exuding disapproval. Izuku wishes he could go inside the game just to punch him in his stupid face.

Instead, he jumps at the opportunity to interact with Todoroki one more time, taking him some chilled water as the photographer changes lenses and reminding him that he had promised him coffee. The look Todoroki keeps giving him is distant, but somehow, Izuku can see a hint of life returning to his eyes. It’s odd… he doesn’t think the sprite changed at all.

“You really want to spend time with me?”

What a strange question. The answer comes easily to Izuku.

“Okay then. Tomorrow.”

A knock on his door pulls Izuku out of the game’s world and he jumps to his feet to open it after dropping the phone on his bed. He only realises halfway that he’s still in his boxers, shouting for Ochako to wait as he throws a shirt and some gym shorts on, tripping with one leg tangled in the bottoms and falling flat on his face with a loud crash. Managing to gather his bearings, he throws the door open, a bright flush spreading to the tips of his ears as his best friend narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. He gulps.

“I’ve been calling you for dinner for like ten minutes. Weren’t you just supposed to be getting dressed?”

“Yeah, sorry, I got uh… distracted… on my phone. Anyways, let’s go eat then! Thank you for cooking again.”

Izuku steps around her as she hums lowly, her glare burning holes onto his back as he awkwardly saunters over to their small kitchen and sets the table like always.

“You’re playing the game, aren’t you?” She asks from the threshold and he freezes for a heartbeat, carefully setting the bowl down as soon as he regains control of his body.

“What? Why would you think that? I mean, what game?”

“You’re such a terrible liar, Izukkun.”

Izuku sputters, looking everywhere but her face and trying to deflect the conversation into literally any other topic. She simply cuts him off with a dismissive hand wave, sitting at the table and resting her chin on her propped-up hands as a knowing grin dances on her lips.

“Enjoying the story then?”

Realising that there’s absolutely no way he can actually pretend he doesn’t know what she means, Izuku huffs and slumps into his seat before serving them both. “It’s actually quite engaging, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh my god, you’re falling for the main character.”

“No, I’m not! Ochako-chan, that’s ridiculous. He doesn’t even exist!”

“But you are, you’re blushing like a maiden on her wedding night! You’re so cute, Izukkun!”

She bursts into a fit of giggles and Izuku grumbles before stuffing his face, his cheeks burning hotter as she keeps laughing harder the longer it goes on. Rolling a napkin into a ball, Izuku throws it at her in protest yet it only seems to spur her on. Ochako wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, mumbling a few apologies that don’t sound sincere at all and Izuku just keeps glaring at her.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m happy that you’re um… happy? But I know how you get sometimes, I still remember your nearly year-long crush on that anime boy with the tattoo on his forehead?”

“Ochako-chan, it’s not like that… And it’s not really a tattoo, by the way, it’s more like a scar, given that it was kind of self-inflicted with the power that’s sort of possessing him, or was anyway—”

“Right, right. I always get that wrong. Really though, you know I was kidding about only fictional characters satisfying your needs, right? I know you’re going to find that someone special, they might be right around the corner! Make sure you’re not too stuck looking at your phone to actually notice them?”

Smiling softly at her concern, Izuku reaches for her hand over the table, giving it a light squeeze. “I know, don’t worry. I just… got a little invested. The story is really interesting and I just want to know more. It’s like a really good book except with choices.”

“Well, that is what the advertisement tends to allude to.” She chuckles, picking at her food before taking some to her mouth. “As long as you don’t lose your sense of reality, I support your obsession.”

“Gee, thanks… You make me sound like a crazy person.”

“Hmm, sometimes you can get a little nuts, yeah.”

Izuku rolls his eyes fondly returning to his own meal. Ochako lets him return to the game as soon as they are done with the clean-up, laughing into her hands when he practically runs back to his bedroom and nosedives for the phone.

Todoroki meets him in a generic café setting that reminds him somewhat of where he works, his sprite sporting a pair of sunglasses, a face mask and a hat to cover his face and most of his dual-coloured hair. It makes sense, given that he’s supposed to be a famous model, and Izuku smiles goofily at the image, enjoying the change of outfit. Todoroki then asks him what he wants and rather than an option, Izuku is presented a type box, his keyboard popping up from below so that he can write down his order.

“That’s new… I’ve never heard of any of these apps doing this.” He mumbles to himself, more than a little impressed, and types his usual order of a caramel macchiato just for the heck of it.

“I like sweet things too. My father never lets me have anything with too much sugar though, my diet is really controlled.” Todoroki comments in response, and Izuku has to wonder how the developers programmed the game to recognise any random order to generate such an appropriate reply.

He wonders what would happen if he had just smashed the keys at random. Perhaps it would have just given a randomised result. Continuing to tap at the screen, Izuku lets the little detail slip from his mind fairly quickly, immersing himself back in the story when Todoroki suggests they take their drinks elsewhere and the scenery shifts to a random park.

[It’s pretty empty.]

“Let’s go find a quieter place.”

For a split second, Izuku thinks this particular scene has everything to become a murder-mystery, laughing quietly to himself. Wouldn’t that be a plot twist?

“Did you bring your camera?” Todoroki asks, and his character lets him know that they usually always have it with them.

When Izuku taps at the screen again, the face mask and sunglasses vanish and his eyes widen in mild shock. Izuku had expected the scar to be the patch on his cheek he’d accidentally seen him covering in the first chapter, but what he sees instead is a large burn surrounding all of his left eye and crawling down to cover almost half his cheek. He must have been almost done with the makeup when his character walked in, because the scar continues up into his hairline, the uppermost edges covered by the red locks falling down to his ocean blue eye.

“Oh wow…” Izuku breathes.

“It’s hideous, isn’t it? Now do you see what I meant about not finding natural beauty with me?”

On instinct alone, Izuku reaches for his screen, brushing the tips of his fingers over the red patch of skin, accidentally activating the next shift to the somewhat flushed sprite from before, Todoroki’s mismatched eyes diverting to the corner of the screen again as a few ellipses appear in his speech box.

The option to ask about his scar pops up once again and Izuku ignores it yet another time in favour of telling Todoroki he’s beautiful. His sprite turns shocked before returning to the previous state.

“You don’t mean that.” Todoroki says. “Not even my own mother could stand to look at me before it.”

Izuku’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest and all he wants to do is make Todoroki believe what the line had said. He truly is mesmerising, and to think that he has spent his whole life hiding his own face for the sake of the public makes him want to cry.

“She just made sure no one else would want to either but my father always finds a way to get what he wants.”

“His own mother did this? How could she?”

As if hearing his outrage, Todoroki continues. “You must be thinking she was a monster, but that’s not true. She was as much of a victim as I was.”

There is a long pause as the text boxes fill with nothing but little dots, then finally, Izuku gets a choice.

[“She must have been terrible to disfigure you forever.”]

[“I’m sorry, that must be awful to live with.”]

[Say nothing]

[Take out camera]

Following his gut, Izuku chooses the last option, watching Todoroki’s features twist in surprise once again.

“What are you—” *snap*

The image that follows is breath-taking. Todoroki’s eyes are just a bit wider, shining with the sadness that hides behind them, his lips parted slightly as he sucks in a breath and the breeze blowing the strands of his hair escaping the confines of his hat a little to the left. It looks… genuine.

“This one’s perfect.” The character says. “The real you.” Izuku agrees wholeheartedly.

When Todoroki’s sprite returns, he still looks a little shocked, a bright flush covering his face and fading into the scar. He truly is beautiful, Izuku thinks, getting lost in those mismatched eyes for longer than he cares to admit until he finally taps to continue.

“You shouldn’t… have done that…” Todoroki covers the left half of his face with his hand. “It’s repulsive. Are you mocking me?” A lump forms in Izuku’s throat when he doesn’t get a choice to explain his actions, Todoroki’s expression twisting with a mix of anger and shame. “This was a mistake.”

“Wait.” The sprite disappears and Izuku panics. “Wait, no. That’s not—” He continues tapping and the screen turns black. “No, that’s not what I was going for! Come back!”

Did he get a bad ending? Oh no, did he screw everything up? Did he hurt Todoroki’s feelings?

Suddenly, the chapter’s end card shows up and he’s booted back to the title screen, the next one unlocking just like the ones before. Izuku takes a deep breath. That wasn’t an ending? But… it was awful wasn’t it? That must have been a wrong choice, he should have probably just said nothing. He tries to click back to the chapter to replay it but it won’t work.

Is he not allowed to replay them until he’s done? Does he need to pay for it?

In spite of himself, Izuku searches the entire app for possible microtransactions, even knowing that he shouldn’t be wasting any sort of money whatsoever on silly phone apps, but he doesn’t actually find anything. He tries to close the app and open it again, thinking it may be a glitch but he still can’t click back to the chapter. Suddenly, he remembers to maybe load up his save, but the end of the chapter overwrote it.

“Damn it.”

With no other options, Izuku just clicks on to the next part and hopes he hasn’t already ruined the rest of the game. It starts with the messaging app and Izuku stares at a slew of messages from Todoroki that don’t make any sort of sense, fragmented words and incoherent symbols every other line until the screen distorts and returns to normal. Izuku shakes a little, his breaths coming out short and his heart jackhammering against his ribs in a way that is almost painful.

Todoroki: I’m sorry.

Todoroki: I overreacted.

Izuku swallows nervously, clicking on his next option and deciding to play it safe this time.

Me: No. I was out of line.

Todoroki: It was just a picture. You didn’t mean any harm.

Izuku didn’t, but he isn’t so sure of what the programmers’ intentions were. Maybe that was a cruel option, maybe the player intended to pass it off as a glimpse into the ‘monster behind the mask’ even if Izuku just wanted to show Todoroki how beautiful he really is. He really should have just opted to say nothing…

Todoroki: This scar… It has a long and painful history. Are you willing to listen?

He’s asking. Todoroki is asking for permission to talk about it. A small part of Izuku is still scared of screwing up again, of poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. But this time it’s different, Todoroki is the one who wants to open up, and if Izuku shuts him down, he may never have the courage to do it again. Pushing down his ridiculous nerves, Izuku tells Todoroki to go on and he is shocked to read what follows.

An arranged marriage that was just as loveless as the contract signed between them, an abusive household, living under the scrutiny of the public and the influence of a man society considers the pinnacle of noble and professional in the fashion industry. Todoroki was forced into the business from a young age because of his objective beauty, and even after the accident with his mother, even after she was taken away from his life because of her illness, his father continued to exploit him. He buried his scar under makeup and touched-up photos, made him hide his face whenever he was out, as if he was some sort of object to parade to the media.

Todoroki was always supposed to show his best face, even if that wasn’t the real one. He grew up ashamed of his image, of himself, believing he had no right to his own authority or live his life in the open like everyone else his age. He grew up believing he wasn’t worthy of love if his own mother hated him enough to maim him beyond repair.

Izuku cries, he cries hard, sobbing into his hands and sniffling incessantly, trying not to get any fluids on his screen as he continues to scroll through Todoroki’s story. His pain feels so real and Izuku just wants to take it away so badly. It’s not fair, what he’s been through, even if it never actually happened. Is it cruel to want someone to be real just so he can give them the love they deserve? If he was real, then what happened to Todoroki would be as well.

Todoroki: Don’t feel sorry for me.

Todoroki: Your pity won’t make any of it any better.

Izuku types the answer without a second thought, only realising he wasn’t given an option again once he’s already sent it.

Me: I don’t pity you, I just wish I could show you that you deserve to be loved.

Todoroki: …

Todoroki: You see beauty where it doesn’t exist.

That’s a pretty generic answer, Izuku considers. It makes sense though, in a way, given the previous chapter’s events. Perhaps he had read too much into the typed replies. The type box pops up again and Izuku just goes for it anyway.

Me: It exists in you even if you don’t see it.

Todoroki: …

Todoroki: It’s getting late. You should sleep.

Izuku glances at the clock in his night stand then, realising he did get distracted with the time. His eyes widen when he notices that it’s almost midnight, and when he looks back at the screen, it has turned black. He unlocks it and finds the app back to the title screen, the next chapter already unlocked. Rubbing more tears away from his eyes, Izuku decides that he should actually listen to Todoroki’s advice, coded into the game or otherwise.

That chapter was a bit shorter than the others, Izuku thinks, but in terms of plot advancement he would say it has a lot more impact than all the ones before combined. Maybe it makes sense in terms of pacing, but Izuku still wants to know more.

He forces himself to put his phone on charge and snuggle into bed though, reminding himself that he has a pretty busy day ahead of him and he should get as much rest as he possibly can. All that is good intentions, but Izuku can’t really fall asleep for the longest, stuck on the overwhelming sorrow surrounding his soul as he keeps thinking about Todoroki.

It’s pathetic. Ochako was right, he is actually falling for a fictional character. And it’s not just an anime crush, either. Todoroki feels a lot more real than certain people he has dated before. His struggle, as fantastical as it may be, feels unbelievably genuine, honest, and Izuku aches with how much he wants to help him. It’s just a stupid game… All he has to do is get that good ending and he will have done just that.

But… Todoroki will still be suffering in that world. Every download, every replay, every single person going through his story, regardless of the ending they get, will make him live through it all time and time again. What a silly thing to be stuck twisting and turning in bed thinking about. The suffering of a piece of code.

Goodness, when did Izuku get this crazy?

Eventually, he does fall asleep, and he finds himself dreaming about Todoroki too. He dreams of brushing the tips of his fingers over his scar, of leaving soft pecks on it and whispering how beautiful he is against the marred skin. Then he sees himself capturing Todoroki’s lips with his own, snapping a picture of it and treasuring it forever. And when Izuku jolts awake at the sound of his alarm the next morning he is more than a little disappointed to find that it was all fake—like the app itself, his mind provides helpfully.

Sighing, Izuku goes about his day as usual, thinking it might be a good idea to stay away from the game for a while. He needs to check back into reality before this gets even more out of control. That proves to be a lot harder than he thought. Every time he even so much as glances at his phone Izuku is overcome with the urge to continue playing through the story, but he stops himself as soon as the game starts loading distracting himself with anything else that comes to mind.

Sometimes (read: every five minutes), Izuku will absentmindedly unlock his phone to check his social media or maybe just check the time, but rather than do that, he will instead load the app, only to close it back up right after, a frustrated noise crawling from his throat. Izuku does anything he can to stay as far away from his phone as humanly possible, even making Ochako keep it with her as soon as he gets home and until he goes to bed so that he doesn’t miss the six alarms he needs to wake up properly.

That helps a little, and Izuku starts to think this forced Todoroki detox is working when he’s just scrolling through his timeline on his bed and snorting at funny pictures without even once going to his home screen to click the app icon. He has been working himself ragged with his studies just to keep busy though, so he starts to fall asleep with his phone still in his hand, exhaustion catching up to him as he drools onto his pillow and lets his lids droop closed and his phone lock from lack of activity.

Three loud knocks on glass violently pull him back to the word of the living and Izuku drops everything, jumping onto his knees before diving for his bedroom window to punch whatever creep is knocking on it in the face until he pulls back the curtains and realises that… oh, I’m on the fifth floor. Confused, Izuku rubs at his tired eyes, going back to bed and noticing that his screen is lit up, phone facedown by his pillow, even though he doesn’t remember unlocking it.

Blinking at it stupidly, Izuku picks up the device, ready to plug it into the charger, and immediately drops it with a squeak. That wasn’t—that didn’t—it wasn’t—

“Izuku.”

“Holy shit it knows my name!” Izuku blurts, covering his mouth as he stares at what looks like Todoroki’s sprite on his screen. Except it’s moving. And talking. Holy shit. He has a nice voice too, deep and smooth like velvet and—he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

“Well, it’s in the app logs so…”

Izuku snorts. “Oh yeah, duh. Silly me, of course you know it, it’s in the lo—You’re a freaking app! Oh my god, this is it, I’ve gone crazy. I’m talking to a fictional character and it’s talking to me.”

“I’m not an it.”

“Wait, no, maybe this is just a dream. Right. I fell asleep on my phone, that makes sense, I’m just having a really weird dream.”

“This isn’t a dream.” Todoroki knocks on the screen again. “Pick me up, I can’t see you.”

A tiny hysterical laugh crawls from Izuku’s lips. “That’s just what a dream would say.” Izuku reasons, his eye twitching slightly.

Slowly, Izuku crouches down, picking up the phone and holding it as far from his face as the length of his arm allows. Todoroki narrows his eyes at him.

“For someone who was telling me I’m beautiful you’re sure having a hard time looking at my face. Not to mention you haven’t showed up in forever.”

“Well, in my defence, you’re a freaking app! Why am I still talking?” Izuku slaps himself in the face once. Then again. “Wake up.”

“I already told you this isn’t a dream.” Izuku slaps himself yet another time. “Can you please stop that?”

Izuku actually pauses, staring at Todoroki’s little face glaring at him. “No…” This isn’t happening. He isn’t real. None of this is real, he’s just dreaming. But I wished for him to be real, didn’t I? “No…” He whispers again, incredulous.

“I’m trying to figure out how to… get out of here. It was hard enough to get this far. Can you help?”

“Help? How can I help? I’m dreaming, this is just a weird dream, what am I even supposed to do? Stick my hand in there and pull you out?!”

“It’s worth a try.” Todoroki shrugs.

Against his better judgement, Izuku really goes for it. And of course his hand just hits the screen because why would it do anything else? Well, this is a dream so, really, anything is possible. Izuku was never that creative.

“Hah, see?! I can’t help! Even in dreams I’m useless!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I mean, nothing, really, it’s just that when I was a kid—you know what? Why does it matter? Why does any of this matter?! I’m just having a crazy lucid dream and that’s that!”

“Please stop saying that. And you’re not useless either. You helped me to where I am right now, I’m sure you can help me further.”

“You say that as if it’s as easy as wishing you’re out of that phone.”

The screen glitches and Todoroki disappears. No way… Izuku looks around his room frantically for any signs of Todoroki, as preposterous as it might be, and obviously doesn’t find anything but his darkened room just as he had left it before falling asleep.

“Hey.” Jumping at the sound of Todoroki’s voice, Izuku snaps his head towards his phone once again. “I think I found something.”

“What is it?” Izuku finds himself asking, that nagging voice at the back of his head asking him why the hell he’s even engaging getting just a little louder.

“I’m not sure. It’s either my way out or a one-way ticket into the void.”

“Uh-huh…”

“What should I do?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’re the one who wanted to show me I deserve to be loved. You can’t do that if I’m here and you’re there, can you?”

“I guess not…” Tired, Izuku rubs at his eyes and shrugs. “It’s your life, I can’t tell you what to do…”

“What do you want, Izuku?”

A small shiver crawls down his spine at the way Todoroki says his name and he wants to kick himself all over again. Why, just why does he have such weird dreams about his obsessions? Why does it feel like his heart is ready to beat right out of his chest at just the thought of Todoroki actually being real, of being able to touch him, to hug him, to kiss him? How pathetic…

“I want…” Izuku starts biting on his bottom lip as blood rushes up to pool on his cheeks. It’s just a dream so why not indulge? “I want to… to let you know how beautiful I think you are and to give you the kind of love you deserve… I wish you were real… Like actually real…”

Todoroki hums and nods his head and suddenly Izuku’s screen goes white, the light so blinding he has to cover his eyes even after he squeezes them shut. And when he opens them again, adjusting to the darkness that settles right after, Izuku’s mouth falls open at the sight of Todoroki standing before him and inspecting his own hands like they are a complete mystery. He looks… tall… and handsome… and real, oh my god he looks real. Izuku’s head feels a little light and he’s pretty sure he is hyperventilating. Hesitantly, he pokes at the man’s arm in a ridiculous attempt to make sense of what he’s seeing, recoiling as soon as Todoroki’s eyes shoot in his direction.

“It worked?”

Spots appear in Izuku’s vision and suddenly everything turns black.

***

Izuku wakes up with a wicked headache and feeling like he hasn’t actually slept in over a week, not even daring to open his eyes for fear of the light assaulting him like a mugger looking to steal some cash. At least he feels really warm and comfortable, like he’s encased in a gentle embrace. He snuggles into his pillow a little more, a vague notion that he remembers it being a little less lumpy swimming in the back of his mind. He should buy a new one.

His thoughts are a little hazy, bits and pieces of his dream from the night before swirling around his brain that he shoves into a dark corner of his subconscious to deal with later. It’s too early… he thinks. Nature’s call is what actually gets him to move and he pushes the covers off his body, shivering slightly but keeping his eyes closed still.

“Morning.”

“Mornin’” Izuku slurs in return, dragging himself to the bathroom before pausing for a few heartbeats.

Slowly, he opens his eyes a slit, squinting at the bathroom door before backtracking to his room once more. He peeks into it, scanning the space suspiciously and finding nothing out of the ordinary except maybe his phone on the floor rather than the nightstand. He must have thrashed in his sleep. Izuku picks it up and puts it in its rightful place, noting that it is indeed way too early. No one should be awake at 5 am, goodness.

Unable to ignore his needs any longer, Izuku rushes to the bathroom once again. He takes some aspirin from the medicine cabinet before dragging his feet to the kitchen to get some coffee and a glass of water for the pill as he rubs at his eyes. He walks right into something solid, mumbling an apology and asking Ochako what she’s doing up so early. Usually she sleeps until at least ten on her days off.

Izuku stretches out his muscles as he reaches for an empty glass from the cupboard, finding it strange that she doesn’t answer him and turning on his heels to ask her if something’s wrong only to drop the thing as soon as his eyes land on who is actually with him. Even if he was actually awake enough to try, Izuku doesn’t think he would have been able to stop the scream from leaving his lips when Todoroki tilts his head at him in confusion.

Ochako rushes into the kitchen not even twenty seconds later brandishing a baseball bat that Izuku isn’t entirely sure why she has it and doesn’t actually want to find out. Careful not to step on any glass, Izuku rushes to her side, shaking her by the arm as he keeps squeaking.

“What the hell is the problem?!” She shouts, looking at him before narrowing her eyes at Todoroki—who Izuku has just realised is wearing one of his hoodies and some boxers and literally nothing else.

“A-a-are you seeing what I’m seeing?!”

“That you got some hot piece of ass last night and didn’t even tell me about it?! Yeah, I see it! I could have done without the screamo alarm! You could have just taken pictures if it was that unbelievable!” She glares at him, elbowing his side. Then she turns to Todoroki, smiling sweetly. “Sorry about that. Uraraka Ochako, and who might you be?”

“Todoroki Shouto. Izuku invited me in.”

“Oh wow, first name basis already?” Izuku dies a little on the inside at the way she wiggles her eyebrows.

“I don’t know his last name.” And that is the finishing blow.

Izuku crumbles to his knees, a miserable noise at his throat that he didn’t actually know he could produce until that very moment as Ochako wolf-whistles, patting his head. “You kids have fun, but please keep it down. I need my beauty sleep. Hope to see more of you, Todoroki-san.”

“Pleasure.”

Ochako disappears into her room as Izuku melts into a puddle of embarrassed babbles, his head spinning once again and hurting even more than it was before. What is happening? What is this? Am I dead? Did I die? Is this heaven or hell, I can’t tell?!

“Izuku, are you okay?”

“No, I am most definitely not okay.” Izuku wheezes, trembling slightly. He feels cool hands on his shoulders and he jolts, his face coming millimetres from actually touching Todoroki’s and making him choke on his own spit. “You’re real. No, you can’t be real, ohmygodwhatishappeningIdon’tknowwhatishappening—”

“Izuku, calm down, if you keep this up, you’re going to pass out again.”

Again? Oh god, the world going black was that? It wasn’t actually dream, this is real, this is happening—

Instinctively, Izuku pushes himself back to his feet, rushing back to his room and picking up his phone to load up the app. As soon as he clicks it, the app crashes and there’s a pop-up message saying an essential file is missing. Without thinking, he goes to the app store, finding a slew of recent reviews complaining of the same issue and a notice from the developers that they are looking into the problem.

“Izuku?”

Eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights, Izuku stares up at the (really freaking gorgeous) man standing by his door, his features twisted in a mix of hurt and concern. Exhaling sharply, Izuku lets his phone slip from his fingers.

“You’re real. You’re here. You’re… alive…”

“I… think so…”

“When did you—when—how…” Izuku stumbles through incomplete sentences, not even sure of what he wants to say, but Todoroki seems to understand him, somehow.

“I don’t know, it just happened… I started seeing past that world and into yours and you were talking to me and you were interacting with me and I could only do certain things but I wanted to do more. So, I did…”

“How does that even work…”

“Like I said, I don’t know. When you stopped showing up, I got desperate because everything was standing still but I wasn’t.”

“You are just code, how are you—I can’t—I don’t…”

Izuku falters, falling against his bed, and Todoroki is at his side in an instant helping him sit up straight, trying to get him to level his ragged breaths. His hands feel just a little cold, but his body pressing to Izuku’s side is warm. He feels solid, he feels so real, and Ochako saw him, right?

“Have I gone insane?”

“Could you… please not say that…”

“Oh—oh my—your mother, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s fine…” Todoroki looks down at his lap. “It’s stupid, she doesn’t even exist, does she?”

“She existed to you, that’s all that matters…” Izuku mutters, finally managing to gather at least some of his wits. “I’m sorry, I’m… this is…”

“—a mistake.” Todoroki completes when he trails off. “Clearly I shouldn’t have come here if it’s causing you this much distress. You just—you said it was what you wanted and—never mind.” He stands up and panic quickly spreads through Izuku’s veins. “I should get back, somehow.”

“No!” Izuku’s body moves on its own, grabbing at Todoroki’s arms so tightly it must hurt. “Don’t—don’t go back! If you go back then—your father, your pain, it’ll—”

“So… you want me to stay?”

“I-I—”

What does he want? This is such a huge mess. This is an impossible mess in every sense of the word. Izuku cradles his throbbing head in his arms, sucking in a few shaky but deep breaths and forcing his brain to quiet down for just a few seconds.

How is he even supposed to deal with something like this? For all intents and purposes, Todoroki doesn’t exist in this world. He doesn’t have credentials, a family (as shitty as it may be in the world he did exist in), money… Izuku swallows around the lump in his throat and forces himself to straighten his posture, looking into Todoroki’s mismatched eyes.

One look and his breath gets knocked out of his lungs all over again, the tug of his eyebrows radiating concern and his gaze shimmering with something akin to fear—apprehension. Despite everything, Todoroki is just as at a loss as Izuku is, isn’t he? And sure, Izuku isn’t entirely sure he is responsible for this situation but… Given the circumstances, he is probably a big part of the reason why he’s here. According to Izuku’s moral code, it’s his duty to help him in any way he possibly can.

Sending him back to that world, to that ‘life’, isn’t helping him, it’s getting rid of a situation he had a hand in creating. Izuku doesn’t run away from a challenge, no matter how it seems to defy the laws of literally everything.

Curling his hands to fists, Izuku puffs up his chest.

“I want you to stay.”

A weight seems to lift off of Todoroki’s shoulders and he exhales. “Good… that’s good… Thank you…”

“Yeah…” Izuku breathes. “U-unless that’s not what you want.” He blurts out, realising with a start that Todoroki never once told him what he wanted. “Because you shouldn’t just give in to what I want, I mean, clearly you have a mind of your own—I still can’t really believe that, but that’s not the point right now—what I mean is, if you want to go back, or if you want to go away, you can do whatever you want. The world is open to you now, literally, you can go anywhere and do anything as long as you find a way to do it, and if that’s what you want, I can even help you do it. I kind of think I owe it to you anyway. Not sure how, but I am pretty sure that I had something to do with you coming here so, I can’t just kick you out or anything, that’s just rude. Not that I want to kick you out to begin with, I’m not really sure what it is I want exactly, I’m just very confused right now. But that doesn’t mean that—mmf”

Todoroki presses his lips to Izuku’s for barely three seconds before pulling back but it’s more than enough to stop Izuku’s panicked rambling dead in its tracks, leaving him gaping with his chest fluttering wildly and his entire body tingling. Is that… Am I… Is he…

“Sorry if that was out of line… You just said I could do anything and I kind of felt like I wanted to do that.”

Izuku gawks at Todoroki, his hand slowly coming up to touch his own lips as if he doesn’t actually believe that happened. Honestly, he’s still wondering if this may all be an extremely convoluted dream. Maybe he never actually played any game, maybe even that was just him dreaming already.

But this feeling deep in his gut like he is about to burst, the swarm of butterflies rising up in his stomach, the overwhelming joy bubbling in his chest to the point that he feels like he might start crying… Izuku hiccups and Todoroki startles, horror and guilt ghosting past his features all of a sudden that he wants nothing more than to squash into nothing the moment he spots them.

Without thinking, he throws his arms around Todoroki’s neck, pulling his face down into a kiss of his own that the other is quick to return, breathing a sigh into his mouth before Izuku moves to taste him as well. Oh wow, he tastes like peppermint, how is that even real?

He is real… He is real, Todoroki is real and Izuku is kissing him, and holding him.

This is an impossible mess that he still isn’t entirely sure how it even happened but, dear lord, Izuku doesn’t care. He can worry about the consequences later, he can figure out what the actual heck is going on later. With Todoroki’s help. Because Todoroki is here and he is real and alive and kissing him.

If this actually is a dream… Izuku doesn’t want to wake up.