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Spring has sprung at last: gone is the snow and the grey slush of winter, and in its place, a thick blanket of cherry blossom petals now covers the emerging grass. Todoroki Shouto watches out the classroom window, distracted, as the pink flowers catch on the wind and take to the sky with a particularly strong breeze, weaving fantastic shapes through the air that threaten to keep his imagination occupied for the rest of the class period.
Present Mic’s energetic lecture is nothing more than a high-pitched drone in the background of Shouto’s thoughts as he reflects. His first year in the U.A. hero course is coming to an end. The cherry blossoms always signal the transition from one school year to the next, thus making him think of the stress of final exams and the end of an era; but they also symbolize the arrival of spring, which is supposed to be a time of rebirth and celebration, of preparing for the next step. The petals continue their frantic vortex. How can something symbolize both endings and beginnings?
The shrill tolling of the class bell interrupts Shouto’s train of thought and snaps him back to reality as Present Mic laments the end of their time together for the day. As he begins to gather his notes, Shouto frowns to himself–he doesn’t have much written for today’s lesson, and he’ll be paying for that in extra study time later, for sure—but his frown fades the moment he hears Midoriya’s voice behind him. Iida chats loudly as he walks alongside his friend, and Uraraka and Asui (Tsuyu, he mentally corrects himself) are close behind, giggling about something or another. Shouto stands and slings his bag over his shoulder, offering his friends a nod and a small smile in greeting as he follows them out the door, just like he does every day. It’s routine, now, walking with them back to the dorms.
Back home.
The satisfaction that comes with that word is bone-deep, and the feeling that bubbles up in his chest is one of belonging. It almost makes him laugh. He never imagined that he could feel like he belongs anywhere, let alone with a group of people who care about him, in a place that welcomes him as an individual. A place where he’s given freedom, trusted by his mentors and peers, and continually reminded–mostly by Midoriya–that he doesn’t have to do things alone. That he has friends.
Shouto is so deep in thought about the concepts of friends and home, he’s startled when Midoriya suddenly yanks him by the arm, pulling him just barely out of the way as Kaminari comes barrelling past them through the comically large doorway, yelling “truce!” behind him. Shouto stares after him for a moment, but his confusion is short-lived as an answering curse rings out from behind them and Bakugou rushes out of the classroom after Kaminari, small explosions erupting from his palms as he gives chase.
The rest of the class dodges out of the way without even sparing them a second glance, their reflexes kicking in with little to no effort of their own. They’re all used to these antics by now. Several months of living in the same building as Kaminari and Bakugou will do that, Shouto supposes.
Beside Shouto, Midoriya chuckles, shaking his head, and Shouto looks to him with silent curiosity.
“I don’t know why it still amazes me that Kaminari keeps teasing Kacchan,” Midoriya smiles, “even when–”
A loud electric zap! sounds from just outside the building, drawing the attention of some upperclassmen walking past. “–that always happens.”
Kirishima and Sero are the next to run by, and Shouto watches as Sero stops to give Kaminari a hand and Kirishima makes his way to Bakugou’s side, shaking his head in exasperation.
The whole dynamic there amazes and confuses Shouto, too.
As the group of students steps outside into the sun, Midoriya gives a sympathetic smile to Kaminari and Sero, and behind them, Jirou bursts into laughter at Kaminari’s dim-witted appearance. He waves at her cheerfully, then gives her a thumbs up and says, “yayyyy,” causing her to double over and forcing Yaoyorozu to shoulder her weight as she threatens to collapse with giggles.
The short walk leading to the dorms is lined with cherry blossom trees, and the sun is shining warmly from the cloudless sky. Shouto walks between Midoriya and Iida and directly behind Uraraka and Tsuyu, enjoying their casual conversation as pink petals gently drift down on a light breeze, dancing across the manicured lawn of the campus green. Shouto even spies a rabbit hopping along the treeline.
Uraraka smiles giddily as she turns over her shoulder to face her friends. “Don’t you just love spring? All the flowers, and the pink, and the baby animals!”
Shouto nods; it certainly is pretty, at least; the way everything seems to bloom overnight.
“And the romance, kero,” Tsuyu adds, her hand in Uraraka’s.
Uraraka blushes, and Shouto’s mind is brought back to the sleepover they had a little while ago. He remembers how Tsuyu and Uraraka had swapped clothes during Truth or Dare, giggling and blushing the whole night, and wonders how he didn’t see that the two of them were interested in each other until they told him they were dating. He also remembers, with his own inexplicable blush, how he asked Midoriya what having a crush felt like, and how Midoriya told him that you feel happy when you’re around someone you have a crush on, but nervous too, and how you might think about kissing them or being with them all the time. He still doesn’t have much of a clue about the whole thing, but maybe it’s something to think about a little more.
“And the romance,” Uraraka agrees, giving Tsuyu’s hand a squeeze. Then she grins devilishly. “Right, Deku?”
Midoriya suddenly makes a choked noise, and Shouto, immediately concerned, turns to find his friend red-faced and already waving off his worry.
“S-sorry,” he says sheepishly after a couple of forced coughs. “I, uh, choked on, um... my own spit.”
Shouto is never sure how Midoriya’s face can turn so red so fast—it’s nearly instantaneous—but it happens so often that Shouto has begun to worry about his blood pressure.
He’s also not sure why this display prompts Uraraka to begin laughing, but at least he’s joined by Iida, who sternly says, “Uraraka! It’s not very nice to laugh at Midoriya’s misfortune!”
This makes Midoriya’s face even redder. The whole thing does strike Todoroki as a little funny though, and he can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face as Iida continues to berate Uraraka for her poorly contained giggles at Midoriya’s expense.
As Shouto and his friends approach Heights Alliance, they find that several of their classmates have elected to stay outside for a while longer, and Uraraka suggests that they follow the others’ example. The five of them place their backpacks on the ground as they sit beneath a tree to relax in the shade. It’s such a nice day, after all.
Jirou and Yaoyorozu pass them on their way inside, but they return quickly with Jirou’s guitar and sit down together on the patio, with Kouda settling across from them and Tokoyami leaning against the wall, trying to pretend he isn’t paying attention as Jirou strikes up a tune.
Shouji sprawls out on the grass beside Shouto, enjoying the sunshine, and Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure are huddled together nearby, quite obviously gossiping about something. Satou is helping Sero shoulder Kaminari’s dead weight, but as they see the group gathering outside, they seem to decide that they might as well just sit and watch the clouds float by, and they unceremoniously drop Kaminari on their way down. Ojiro watches this happen, shrugs, and flops down onto the grass with them.
Shouto looks around. The whole class seems livelier now that the air is beginning to warm up. Not that they weren’t lively all winter; but the spring flowers bring a certain change in energy that Shouto can’t deny. Things seem... more hopeful, maybe. More exciting. The warm sun shining on his face almost makes him want to unleash a few flames or spears of ice, just to burn some energy. Or maybe it’s Midoriya’s contagious excitement; next to Shouto, he gesticulates wildly as he talks, and the sun glints off his curls. Shouto finds himself smiling slightly at his friend’s good mood.
Hm. Has Midoriya always had that many freckles? The thought takes Shouto by surprise, and he realizes, sheepishly, that he’s been staring. He looks away quickly. He’s seen Midoriya’s face a thousand times, so why would he think this now? He sneaks a glance back at his friend as Iida, Tsuyu, and Uraraka laugh at something Midoriya said. He couldn’t even begin to count Midoriya’s freckles from here—he would have to be a lot closer for that—but it really does seem like there are more than normal. Maybe the sun’s return is bringing them out again.
Shouto doesn’t realize that he’s been asked a question until all four of his friends turn to him, and Midoriya looks at him with concern in his eyes. “Todoroki? You okay?”
Careful not to show his embarrassment, Shouto straightens up and schools his expression. “Yes, sorry.” Then, after a pause, “what did you say?”
All of them laugh now, and Shouto feels that twinge of embarrassment again. He didn’t mean to stop paying attention—and he definitely didn’t mean to get distracted by Midoriya’s freckles, of all things.
“I just asked if you were coming to the cherry blossom festival with us on Saturday,” Uraraka says, and Shouto notices the way her eyes slide over to Midoriya as she grins. There’s some hidden communication between them, but for the life of him, Shouto has no idea what it means. Sometimes, it seems to him like Midoriya and Uraraka have their own unspoken language.
“Oh. Yes, I am.” The whole class is going, so of course Shouto will tag along—he’s never been to the festival before, and he really does like the flowers. And he really, really likes hanging out with his friends.
Friends. His earlier thoughts come back to him suddenly: that word is still strange to him; not so much foreign, anymore, but... it wasn’t a word that he ever expected would belong to him.
Midoriya changed all that. The gratitude that Shouto feels toward him is immense, for helping him shatter that wall around his heart, for reuniting him with his fire and his dreams, for showing him what’s possible. That thought brings a rush of heat across his face, and he frowns inwardly. Why does that keep happening? Shouto has never been one to blush. Midoriya’s red-faced tendencies must be rubbing off on him, somehow.
Uraraka claps her hands together in delight, breaking his train of thought. “Great!” she enthuses, and Midoriya smiles blindingly in agreement.
Shouto can’t help but smile back.
But, as always with their class, the peacefulness of the afternoon can’t last for long.
“HEY! Quit it!” Ojirou yelps, causing the whole class to turn and look—Jirou’s guitar playing stops with a twang—and Shouto looks over to see Ojirou batting away Kaminari’s hands as Kaminari, still brain-fried, tries to grab Ojirou’s tail. Beside them, Satou and Sero watch in amusement, and Sero is recording the moment on his phone. When Ojirou slaps Kaminari in the face with the end of his tail, it sends the whole group into laughter—even Shouto has to smile at their antics. Being hit doesn’t deter Kaminari, however, and he keeps reaching for the fluffy part of the tail. As Ojirou continues to slap his hands away, their laughter grows and grows, and the sun continues shining above them.
When Saturday morning finally arrives, Shouto is up and ready far too early. He’s already gotten dressed and had his tea, but no one else is awake yet—they aren’t planning on leaving the dorms until nine, and it’s only six. Shouto himself is only up so early because he couldn’t sleep, his insomnia (and nightmares, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else) keeping him awake most of the night, until the first rays of sunlight began to stream through his blinds and he finally, begrudgingly, got out of bed. Yawning for the umpteenth time that hour, he decides that he could use the extra caffeine afforded by a second cup of tea, and heads back downstairs to the kitchen to prepare a kettle.
The communal kitchen is stocked with various dishware and utensils for everyone’s use—so long as they clean up after themselves, and it only took one night of Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido leaving dirty dishes out for Iida to scold them so thoroughly that even Mr. Aizawa would have had nothing left to say. Shouto smiles at the memory. It hasn’t happened since; the kitchen is spotless now, as always. He takes the kettle from its cabinet, fills it with water, and sets it on the stove to boil, more out of habit than necessity, considering he could probably do it faster himself if he just held it in his left hand.
But then again, he doesn’t think he has enough control over his fire yet that he could stop it before it began to whistle.
He really doesn’t like it when it whistles.
As he watches the steam rise gently from the spout, contemplating how far he still has to go in order to master his left side, Shouto hears the telltale scuffle of slippers that lets him know that someone else is coming downstairs for their morning tea.
Maybe it’s good that he won’t be alone with his thoughts anymore.
When he turns to greet the newcomer, however, his voice dies in his throat before he can even get out a “good morning.” A strange feeling makes its way from his stomach to his chest as Midoriya, in his All Might pajamas, his green hair sleep-tousled and sticking up at odd angles, steps into the kitchen with a big yawn.
Shouto freezes, although he isn’t sure why. He’s oddly captivated by the way Midoriya rubs the sleep from his eyes and then, seeing Shouto, stills and reddens fiercely.
“T-Todoroki!” he exclaims, suddenly seeming very awake (and fidgety). “Good morning! I, uh, didn’t think anyone else would be up this early.”
Shouto struggles to find words. There’s a raspy quality to Midoriya’s voice that signifies that he probably didn’t sleep much better than Shouto did—he wonders if he should bring it up. But that would probably be rude. He finally settles for a simple “Good morning, Midoriya.”
Midoriya relaxes a bit as the initial shock of seeing another human being so early in the morning fades. He smiles softly, his ever-analyzing eyes seeing right through Shouto’s carefully schooled expression. “Looks like you didn’t get much sleep either, huh?”
Oh. So maybe it’s not rude. If it wasn’t Midoriya, Shouto would wonder how he let his exhaustion show, but... it is Midoriya. And Midoriya can always tell how he’s feeling, somehow. He nods. “None at all, actually.”
Midoriya winces as he crosses the kitchen to the cabinet full of tea. He pulls out a box, examines it, and places it back in the cupboard. “I’m sorry,” he tells Shouto. “I, uh, know how that feels. Is it nightmares?” Then, his expression turns panicked. “N-not that you have to talk about it if you don’t want to–I mean, I know that sort of thing is personal! It’s just that, you know, I get them too, so if you do want to talk about it, I’ll always listen! B-but you probably don’t want to talk about it so you can just forget I asked, and—”
“It’s okay,” Shouto interrupts him before he worries himself into a fit of muttering. “I... do have nightmares. About lots of things.”
Midoriya clamps his mouth shut and looks at him, surprised. “O-oh. Well ...” He turns contemplative, reaching for his preferred box of tea and setting it on the counter next to him as he turns back to Shouto. “I think all of us do. We’ve been through a lot, after all. So, uh, you’re not alone in that.”
You’re not alone. The words echo in his mind. How does Midoriya always know the right thing to say to put Shouto’s heart a little more at ease?
Part of him wants to concede a little more, to tell Midoriya about his dreams—that they’re always similar. Whether it’s Stain, or All for One, or his father; it’s always about how helpless he feels. But he can’t quite bring himself to talk about it, can’t burden Midoriya with that knowledge, so he nods, and gives a small but sincere, smile. “Thank you. I’m alright.”
Midoriya smiles back—that blinding, sunshine smile—and for a moment, again, Shouto is dumbstruck.
Then there’s a shift in Midoriya’s attention, and he reaches behind Shouto, freezing him to the spot until Shouto hears the telltale click of the stove being shut off. When he turns around, he realizes that, oh, the tea was about to boil.
Midoriya stopped it from whistling.
Shouto’s heart stutters in his chest, a delighted flutter of butterfly wings, and he almost laughs. Once again, Midoriya has surprised him.
Before Shouto can think about it too deeply, Midoriya has a potholder in his scarred hand and is filling their mugs. The aroma of jasmine begins to fill the room as the steam rises, and they both take a deep, calm breath. The early morning sun is just beginning to cast its orange beams through the blinds over the window, and tiny rays of sunlight catch on the vapor in the air, iridescent. They also catch in Midoriya’s eyes, and on his bed-mussed hair. Shouto smiles.
Midoriya smiles back.
And then, like a spell being broken, Midoriya suddenly blushes bright red, stands up straight, and stutters, “w-well! I’d better go get ready! I’ll, um, see you at 9!”
And he rushes out of the kitchen and back upstairs to his room.
Perplexed, Shouto watches him leave in a hurry, only realizing after he’s gone that his own cheeks feel quite warm as well.
Also, he seems to have accidentally iced over his still-steeping tea.
The next few hours pass by agonizingly slowly—Shouto even resorts to doing some studying to pass the time—but eventually, 9:00 arrives, and Shouto heads back downstairs to meet up with everyone. Gathered outside in the chilly morning air, most of his friends are wearing jackets, but even though it won’t be as warm as yesterday, Shouto doesn’t need to bother with extra layers thanks to his quirk. Once all of the students have reported in to Iida (the self-proclaimed leader of the group, given his status as class representative), they set off toward the bus stop.
It’s a lucky break that the bus is nearly empty when it arrives, but as they all pile on, Shouto feels a little bit bad for the few people who are already here, because it gets very loud and very chaotic very quickly. Despite Iida’s valiant attempts at damage control, Bakugou still loudly threatens to blow up Kaminari’s face no less than three times in the twenty minutes it takes to get into town.
“Bakugou doesn’t seem very happy to be here,” Shouto quietly whispers to Midoriya in the seat next to him.
But Midoriya only shakes his head with a smile. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve seen him this excited about a festival in a long time.”
Shouto looks behind him curiously, and notes that the scowl on Bakugou’s face does seem a little less harsh than usual. He’s even answering the things that Kirishima and Sero are saying to him, though he certainly isn’t cursing any less than he usually does. Or lowering his volume.
Midoriya must be right, he muses, watching a hint of red creep into Bakugou’s face as Kirishima smiles brightly beside him. Maybe Shouto still has a lot to learn about interacting with others.
Scratch that, Shouto definitely still has a lot to learn about interacting with others.
They can smell the festival before they can see it. The sweet, floral scent of the cherry blossoms mingles with that of the sweet and savory dishes being cooked, and the result is a mouthwatering bouquet that has everyone’s stomachs growling. Midoriya’s, in particular, gives a loud gurgle as they step off the bus, and the whole group begins to laugh as he sheepishly vocalizes his hunger. The first stall they’ll visit, Uraraka decides as she rushes forward, will be a food cart.
The park is packed with people young and old, families and students and couples gazing happily at the pink trees all around. Children chase the petals as the wind stirs them into fantastic shapes and scatters them about, grabbing handfuls of them from the ground to toss into each others’ hair. Shouto looks around in awe. There are so many trees, all densely packed into the city park so that their flowers turn the sky into a misty pink wonderland. The stalls beneath them, covered in the petals, are selling food and crafts and knick knacks depicting the cherry blossoms, or traditional Japanese blessings for the festival goers who need some good fortune in their lives. Everyone seems to be in high spirits.
Their large group begins to split apart as Ashido drags Hagakure and Kaminari by their arms to the first food stall they come across, and Sero and Kirishima are close behind. Bakugou follows them at a safe distance, hands in his pockets, trying his best to seem like he isn’t following anyone—but he doesn’t protest when Kirishima turns around and drags him closer to the group.
Shouto spots a group of class B students across the way, and several of them turn to wave. Yaoyorozu and Jirou go off to join Kendou and the other class B girls, and Tokoyami and Shouji motion some of the boys over as they head to a yakisoba stand nearby.
Uraraka stops short in front of Shouto, clasping her hands together in delight, and Shouto very nearly collides with her.
“Look! A mochi stall!” She takes off running without checking to see if anyone is behind her, but Tsuyu, Iida, Aoyama, Midoriya, and Shouto follow nonetheless.
“Two, please.” Uraraka smiles, and hands over a few coins in return for mochi for herself and Tsuyu.
Midoriya and Aoyama also get some for themselves, but Shouto isn’t hungry yet, so he simply accompanies them to a nearby bench as they eat.
“Hey,” Uraraka elbows Midoriya in the ribs, and he nearly chokes on his mochi. “Is that Midnight over there? And Miss Joke?”
Midoriya looks up, head swiveling in search of his teacher and the other pro. Shouto looks too, and sure enough, the two women are standing several yards ahead of them, gazing at the cherry blossoms, hand in hand. Midnight’s hair is up, and she’s wearing glasses and casual clothes—Shouto might not have recognized her if Uraraka hadn’t pointed her out. The six of them watch as Miss Joke says something that makes Midnight laugh, then turns and plants a kiss on her cheek.
“Ooooooh!” Uraraka squeals, bouncing in her seat. “I didn’t know they were together!”
“Très cute,” Aoyama smiles.
“It’s been a subject of debate on some of the hero forums,” Midoriya says, “I never pay too much attention to tabloid stuff like that, ‘cuz it’s usually fake, but looks like it was true, this time! I’m happy for them!”
“I’m sure they’re trying to keep it low key, kero,” Tsuyu adds. “Pro heroes have enough paparazzi to deal with without disclosing their romantic partners.”
“Yes, and everyone deserves their privacy,” Iida says with a nod.
Shouto also nods. Privacy isn’t something most heroes are blessed with, and especially not the pros. As popular as Midnight is, Shouto would be surprised if she didn’t have rumours about her love life circulating online. It hits him that this is something he will most likely have to deal with someday, whether or not he ever ends up in a relationship.
Their teacher and her girlfriend move on to the next part of the park, leaving the students to think about privacy, and their future private lives as heroes.
Once everyone finishes their mochi, Uraraka and Tsuyu head off on their own to look at the flowers alone—“a date,” Tsuyu happily ribbits—and they wave to the boys, promising to see them in a little while.
“Ah,” Aoyama sighs as they walk away, hand in hand, “amour.”
Shouto, Midoriya, and Iida watch as the two girls step a little bit closer to one another, and Tsuyu lets out a croaking giggle that makes Uraraka blush.
“They certainly are a cute couple, don’t you think?” Iida says.
Shouto sees Midoriya blush in his peripheral vision. “Y-yeah,” he agrees.
To his other side, Aoyama is grinning at Midoriya. “Many of us aspire to a love like that, non?”
Midoriya blushes more fiercely and begins to wave his hands around. “Well, um, I’m sure everyone wants l-love in some form, whether that’s romantic or platonic, right?”
Aoyama nods and winks, and then turns to Shouto, catching him off guard. “And what about you, Todoroki?”
Shouto isn’t sure why the question makes heat rise in his cheeks, but he tries to cover it with the cold from his right—he realizes too late that he might have overcompensated, though, because Midoriya and Iida shiver slightly in the sudden temperature drop. He supposes that Midoriya is right in that everyone wants love in some form or another, but the question is a little personal for Shouto’s taste. He looks up at the cherry blossom sky and says, simply, “I agree.”
Aoyama opens his mouth, most likely to ask another question, but luckily for Shouto, he’s spared having to elaborate as Monoma’s haughty laughter rings out from a few stalls down, answered by Bakugou’s growled cursing. Iida immediately sets off to remind them that they are in a public space, and that they must act in a way befitting of their institution. Across the way, Shouto sees Kendou sigh heavily and head toward them as well.
Aoyama gives Shouto and Midoriya another sparkling wink and disappears after Iida, leaving the two of them alone in the busy park, cherry blossom petals falling around them. They look at each other, and then at the situation unfolding between their classmates as Kendou whacks Monoma in the back of the head, and Shouto shrugs. “What do you want to do now?”
Midoriya is blushing again (for the life of him, Shouto can’t figure out why), but he seems to get it under control quickly—though his voice is still a higher pitch than normal when he says, “It’s your first time at the festival, T-Todoroki, what do you want to do?”
Shouto thinks for a moment. What does he want to do? He’s not hungry yet, and he mostly came to spend time with his friends, so just hanging out with Midoriya is enough for him. So he points to one of the paved paths to their right, one that winds around the trees and goes a bit farther from the crowds and the noise. “We could walk through the trees,” he suggests.
Midoriya’s blush returns tenfold, and he won’t meet Shouto’s eyes. “Y-yeah!” He wrings his hands. “Sounds, um, good to me! Just... just walking and talking and looking at the flowers! That–that’s what the festival’s for, r-right?” He laughs nervously.
“We could do something else if you want,” Shouto says, worried that he’s somehow said the wrong thing. Midoriya’s nerves are a mystery that he won’t be able to unravel anytime soon.
“N-no!” he waves his hands in front of himself frantically. “It really does sound perfect! I mean good! Great!” And he starts to walk toward the path, rambling as he goes.
Shouto follows.
It only takes a few minutes of conversation for Midoriya to calm down again—Shouto has long since learned that one surefire way to ease his friend’s mind is to say something about heroes, and Midoriya will suddenly have plenty to talk about—and Shouto finds himself lulled into companionable quiet as he listens to his passionate mumblings. Of course he adds to the conversation when he needs to, and Midoriya is always asking him what he thinks, but Shouto likes being able to be quiet, and just listen. No matter what Midoriya is talking about—whether it’s who would win in a hypothetical fight between two heroes, or his predictions about next year’s rankings—he has such spirit in him. Shouto is... not envious, per se, but appreciative of his energy. He admires it. He admires Midoriya.
Halfway through Midoriya’s rambling sentence, a sudden strong gust of wind blows through the park, and the trees lining the sidewalk shudder as thousands of petals are torn from their branches and lifted into the air with invisible force. Shouto stares in awe as the wind dies and the petals stop their frantic dance, settling into a sea of pink as they gently float downward. As they fall, so does Shouto’s gaze, until his eyes come to rest on the scene before him—and what he sees nearly takes his breath away.
Midoriya, always a ray of sunshine in his own right, is positively beaming, his bright grin chasing away the clouds in the sky as the sun comes out to greet him. His green curls are a mess, taken by the wind and tangled with hundreds of tiny pink petals as they float all around him, circling the two of them in graceful arcs. The sudden onslaught of flowers has awed him in the same way it awed Shouto, and his green eyes are shining with unshed tears of happiness as he looks around himself, and then finally meets Shouto’s stare. The sunlight shines on Midoriya’s face and makes his green eyes gleam, and Midoriya, still looking at Shouto with a reddening blush, begins to laugh. The sound is like magic; like bells or harps or a goddamn choir of angels—Shouto can’t make an appropriate analogy because his thoughts have completely ceased making sense, stalled entirely save for one thing: this is what a crush feels like.
The realization hits him like a ton of bricks as a goofy smile spreads across his face, mirroring Midoriya’s, and his cheeks take on the color of the flowers around them. Everything finally makes sense: the smiling and blushing and loss of control over his quirk, the turning of his stomach and the attention to Midoriya’s freckles.
It’s so clear now, how did Shouto ever miss it?
Midoriya’s laughter turns to giggles and finally subsides, but Shouto’s heart keeps beating to its own frantic, erratic rhythm.
A crush. Shouto has a crush on Midoriya. The initial euphoria of the realization takes a turn for the panicked as the implications begin to dawn on him: Midoriya is his best friend. His first real friend. And having feelings for him is going to complicate things immensely. He’s sure that Midoriya only sees him as a friend—how could he see him as anything else?
And his heart sinks as he realizes what this means. Shouto cannot let anyone know how he feels about Midoriya. No, he needs to put this aside, regardless of the way his stomach turns at Midoriya’s smile, regardless of the silly fantasies that are crossing his mind as the petals around them finally settle.
“Todoroki?”
Shouto startles—he was lost in his thoughts—and clears his throat. “It’s beautiful. The festival,” he feels the need to clarify, since he was actually talking about Midoriya’s eyes.
Midoriya’s smile doesn’t dim. “It is, isn’t it?”
“There you are!” Iida’s voice rings out over the crowd. “Midoriya, Todoroki, we’ve been looking for you!”
Shouto steps back, suddenly feeling like he’s standing far too close to Midoriya. He shoves all of his thoughts about crushes to the back of his mind, and carefully neutralizes his expression in one practiced move.
Midoriya’s face reddens, and he also takes a step back from Shouto as he laughs and stutters a sheepish hello to Iida.
Shouto feels the distance between them like a chasm as he follows Midoriya, rejoining their friends and the festival.
But everyone’s smiles are bright—Iida and Aoyama have regrouped with Yaoyorozu, Jirou, and some of the class B girls, and Shouto knows that now isn’t the time to dwell on his new revelation. He’s supposed to be here to have fun.
“Todoroki, look!” Yaoyorozu nudges him lightly, and he tears his eyes from Midoriya’s back to find her bouncing with her usual exuberant energy. She’s pointing to their left, toward a stall selling noodles of some sort. “You like cold soba, don’t you?”
Sure enough, if he squints, he can just make out the main item on the menu. His stomach gives a loud growl, and Jirou laughs.
“It’s lunchtime!” she announces, pulling Yaoyorozu by the hand and beckoning for Todoroki to follow. With one last lingering look at Midoriya, he does.
Jirou finds the three of them a little table to eat their food at, and as Shouto digs in, Yaoyorozu clears her throat.
“Todoroki,” she says diplomatically, and Shouto looks up at her mid-slurp, causing Jirou to laugh again. “I don’t mean to pry...”
Instantly, he’s on guard. When people say they don’t mean to pry, that usually means they’re about to pry.
“But... am I wrong in assuming that there is something between you and Midoriya?”
If Shouto was even slightly less practiced in the art of hiding his emotions, he would have choked on his soba. As it is, he feels the skin on his left side heat up significantly, while the right sleeve of his shirt begins to frost. Panicking internally, on the heels of his revelation—how on Earth did Yaoyorozu figure it out so fast?—he takes a moment to choose his words carefully. “I’m not sure what you mean. Midoriya and I are friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Yaoyorozu fidgets in her seat. “That wasn’t what I meant. The two of you are clearly good friends—”
“Best friends,” Jirou interrupts with an exaggerated wiggle of her eyebrows.
“—Yes, but it seems to us that your feelings go a bit deeper than that. And I thought that you might want someone to confide in.”
Jirou nods and takes another bite of her lunch. “Obviously you haven’t talked to Midoriya about it, and I’m sure you’re worried that Ochako, Tsuyu, and Iida are too close to the situation. But everybody needs someone to talk to about this stuff.”
“We just wanted to make sure you knew that we would be happy to listen, or give advice if you wanted it,” Yaoyorozu finishes, her smile kind and patient as always.
Shouto is only half paying attention to the two girls as they await his reply, focused as he is on taking deep breaths and returning his body temperature to normal—catching on fire right now would be the worst possible way to confirm their suspicions.
He takes another careful bite of his food. “Thank you for the offer,” he concedes, not wanting to hurt their feelings, “but Midoriya and I—” god, did his voice just crack? “—are just friends.”
“Oh.” Yaoyorozu frowns slightly. “I see. Well, I apologize for prying, Todoroki.”
Jirou pats her girlfriend’s shoulder and winks at Todoroki. “No pressure, but if you change your mind, we’ll be here. Metaphorically speaking.”
Shouto nods, unsure if they even believe him or not. But Jirou and Yaoyorozu quickly change the subject, and Shouto is simply along for the conversational ride, his mind still reeling at the fact that the two of them figured him out.
Because if they noticed... then who else can see into his heart?
It isn’t long before Shouto finds himself joined once again by Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, and Tsuyu as they continue to explore the festival, stopping at each stall they pass. He’s content to hang back and observe, for the most part, watching as Uraraka and Tsuyu fawn over some cherry blossom-themed jewelry here; listening as Iida explains the history of some traditional charms there.
They pass Bakugou, Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari talking and laughing loudly as they lean against the fence that separates the sidewalk from the trees, and Kirishima gives them a cheerful wave as Bakugou levels them with a death glare that makes Shouto want to step between him and Midoriya. Kaminari, for some reason, is trying to catch a falling cherry blossom petal on his tongue as if it were a snowflake, and when he does, Sero begins to chant, “Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!”
Kaminari eats it, and Sero laughs.
They pass a group of class B students as they crowd around one of the tables, and when Shouto looks closer, he can see that they’re having an arm wrestling contest. Tetsutetsu seems to be winning against his opponent, whose name Shouto can’t remember—the one with the welding quirk. When Tetsutetsu slams his hand to the table, the crowd cheers. One of the boys, Shouto remembers his name is Honenuki, gives their group a wave. “Want to join? Tetsu’s undefeated!”
They politely decline as Kendou takes her place across from the champion, but Shouto can’t help but think that if they were using quirks, Midoriya would beat them all.
They pass Tokoyami, Kuroiro, Shouji, and Komori—whose name Shouto only remembers after Uraraka calls out to her with a wave. Mushrooms pop up at her feet as she waves back, then continues her barrage of questions to an increasingly uncomfortable looking Tokoyami. It sounds like she’s asking about his internship.
As they double back to the entrance to the park, they eventually join Aoyama, Ojirou, Ashido, and Hagakure at an ice cream vendor’s stall. It’s still a bit chilly outside, but everyone is eating ice cream anyway—it doesn’t bother Shouto, of course, so long as he holds it in his right hand to keep it from melting.
“This has been, like, so nice,” Hagakure gushes, her ice cream cone seemingly floating in midair.
“I know right?” Ashido says. “Everything’s been so stressful with exams coming up. It’s nice to just chill for a day.”
“Not to mention how pretty it is here.” Ojirou smiles contentedly, and his tail flicks back and forth slightly.
Uraraka giggles as she and Tsuyu join them with their ice cream cones. “You look like a cat in the sunshine, Ojirou!”
He pouts slightly. “I just really love springtime, don’t make fun!”
“I’m not, I’m not, I promise!” Uraraka waves her hands apologetically. “It’s just great to see everyone having so much fun, right Tsu?”
Tsuyu ribbits.
“Nature is the perfect place to decompress,” Iida adds with a robot-like chop through the air that makes them all giggle. “Fresh air stimulates the mind and recharges the body.”
“I’m definitely feeling more limber,” Midoriya says. “I’ll probably go for an evening run tonight!”
“A great idea!” Iida nods.
It does sound like a good idea. Shouto wants to ask if Midoriya would mind if he tags along, as they’ve gone running together in the past, but he suddenly feels like it would be a strange question, somehow. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s paying too much attention to him. But then again, Midoriya is his friend—would it be weirder if Shouto didn’t join him? He realizes with a twinge of panic that he’s overthinking it. Relax, he reminds himself. Nothing’s changed.
“Us girls are having a sleepover tonight,” Hagakure says. “Class B, too!”
Ashido smiles deviously. “We’ve got gossip to catch up on!”
That worries Shouto a little bit. Not that he doesn’t trust Yaoyorozu and Jirou, and he certainly didn’t tell them anything private that they could share with the other girls, but if they’re going to gossip about the things they’ve assumed... well, Shouto would rather not be the subject of conversation.
Aoyama winks dramatically. “If it is gossip you seek, look no farther than moi!”
Ashido grins at him. “Oh, of course! Girls’ Night is open to anyone who appreciates a good gossip sesh.”
Ojirou rolls his eyes. “Remind me to never tell you guys anything personal.”
“Need I remind you that feeding into rumors isn’t exactly heroic behavior?” Iida questions.
“Don’t worry, Iida.” Uraraka pats him on the shoulder. “We don’t tell other people’s secrets.”
Is it just Shouto, or did Uraraka look pointedly at Midoriya when she said that? Their unspoken communication passes over Shouto’s head, once again.
“We just talk about our own feelings, mostly, kero.”
“Feelings are gossip, though,” Ashido pouts.
Ojirou sighs in relief. “As long as you guys aren’t talking about me. I’m sure Iida, Midoriya, and Todoroki agree with me on that.”
All three of them nod. Ojirou probably doesn’t know just how true that statement is for Shouto right now.
“Hey, guys!”
They all turn toward Kirishima’s voice as he approaches with Bakugou, Kaminari, and Sero in tow.
“We’re heading back to the dorms, anybody else coming with?”
Shouto pulls out his phone to check the time and, oh, it’s later than he thought it was.
Midoriya does the same, and laughs as he voices Shouto’s thoughts aloud. “Time flies when you’re having fun!”
The buses back toward U.A. are more crowded in the afternoon, and the students decide they should leave in groups. Shouto stays with his friends after the first bus leaves, and they wait outside the park, leaning against the wrought iron fence that encloses the festival.
“So, Todoroki,” Midoriya says after a stretch of companionable silence. His eyes are bright and eager as always, and Shouto is struck with another pang of the affection he felt earlier. It’s difficult to look Midoriya in the eyes without feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “How’d you like the festival?”
Shouto considers the question, tries to calm his faint blush. “It was... good. The flowers are pretty. And the food was really good, too.” And I may have realized that I have feelings for you. That part obviously goes unsaid, but the feelings are at the forefront of his mind as Midoriya grins widely. That sunshine smile will be the death of him.
“Ah, I’m really glad! I was worried you might not have fun, because I know you’re not really a big fan of crowds, which is totally fair, by the way, I don’t really like crowds either, but everyone should at least see the festival once, if you ask me, and I just thought you’d like to see the trees, even if it was busy, so I’m glad you came with us!”
How he said all that without taking a breath, Shouto will never understand. But he smiles gratefully at his friend’s words, and looks up to the pink sky. “I always have fun hanging out with you.” Shit. “All. You all.” He grimaces internally at his slip-up. Get it together, Shouto.
For his part, Midoriya blushes and stutters. “O-oh, well, I’m, uh, really happy to hear–to hear that!”
Shouto kicks himself mentally. He said too much, and it embarrassed Midoriya. This is the first time Shouto has ever had a problem with saying too much, instead of too little, and he doesn’t like it. He’d better keep his mouth shut. He’s grateful when Uraraka and Tsuyu’s conversation involves Midoriya as well, and Shouto no longer has to contribute much. He’s even more grateful when the next bus pulls up and they all step on, their chatter diminished by the fact that there aren’t many seats next to each other. Shouto still ends up next to Midoriya and Iida, but he can simply sit and listen to the other two talk. He’s especially grateful, however, that he ended up sitting to Midoriya’s right—meaning that Midoriya is on Shouto’s left. The slight heat that radiates from Shouto seems to relax Midoriya, and he subconsciously leans into the warmth. Shouto thinks that he might be a bad person for enjoying this as much as he is, and he’ll certainly berate himself for it later, but... seeing Midoriya content is enough for him right now.
When they get back to the dorms, they all have things to do—homework and weekend workouts, cleaning and laundry. So Shouto sets his mind to one task at a time, focusing on his math homework, then his reading, then his English vocabulary. And when Shouto finally crawls into bed that night, he’s exhausted. He hasn’t spent this much social energy in a single day in a long time. And he hasn’t had a revelation like the one he had today, well, ever.
His thoughts return to what he’s been trying to push away all afternoon, and now that he’s alone, he can’t stop them. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he’s probably felt this way about Midoriya for a while now, although he didn’t have a name for it until today. The turning of his stomach when he crashed to the ice with Midoriya when they went ice skating last month, the holes burned in his favorite t-shirts, the time when Midoriya explained to him what a crush was, it all makes sense, and—oh, god; Midoriya doesn’t already know, does he?
The air in his room heats up several degrees, and he kicks the sheets off of himself. No, there’s no way he knows. If he knew the way he made Shouto feel, he wouldn’t smile the way he does, or tell Shouto the things he tells him. If he knew, wouldn’t he be upset, or embarrassed? After all, he only sees Shouto as a friend; Shouto is sure of it.
But... his train of thought jumps suddenly to the holiday party back in December. The holiday party that Midorya had thrown because he knew Shouto had never celebrated before. The thoughtfulness of the gesture, the effort he put into making it so fun, and... the mistletoe. Before Shouto can even try to get a hold of his quirk, his bed is covered in ice, and in the space of a single moment, all his furniture is frozen solid. Oh, no, Midoriya had kissed Shouto on the cheek. He had kissed him, and Shouto had gone rigid and nearly turned the place into a sauna. How had he not noticed then? How did he feel the stutter of his heart and not realize that he was head over heels for his best friend? Had Midoriya realized then how Shouto reacted? Midoriya is certainly too nice to say anything about it, so what if he does know? Shit. The ice is creeping up the walls of his room.
Shouto sighs heavily, swinging his legs over the edge and standing up so that he can thaw and dry his sheets. Wondering isn’t going to do him any good, obviously. He needs to get control over his emotions—focus on being Midoriya’s friend. He can’t jeopardize this relationship that they have. It’s one of the most important relationships in Shouto’s life, maybe the most important, and Midoriya doesn’t need to know about all of the ridiculous fantasies Shouto harbors. Fantasies that have only just come to exist today, about holding his hand the way Uraraka holds Tsuyu’s, or seeing that bright smile all the time, or even kissing him, like at the holiday party, only this time, not just on the cheek—Shouto mentally shoves those thoughts away, feeling the beginnings of a flame in his left hand as steam billows up from his sheets, filling the bedroom.
No, this needs to stay hidden.
For Midoriya’s sake, and his.