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Todoroki Shoto was sick.
Something to do with his heart, was what his doctor had reported about two years ago during his yearly physical. His mother was horrified, but Shoto had always figured there had to be something wrong with him. Whenever his heart would beat, sometimes, it’d start to ache. As if he was missing someone terribly. And for a little while, he pretended it was a soulmate kind of thing. That somewhere in the world, his soulmate was hurting just as much as he was. But those were just silly games to pass the time during hospital visits, and eventually he stopped indulging them.
The reality of his sickness was a lot worse than what he and his mother initially thought. There was a chance he could die if he got too worked up over something. If his heart pumped too much blood, he was as good as dead.
Doctor Tao said he only had a few years left to live before his heart completely stopped beating on its own, and Shoto was ready to accept his fate. Death was inevitable, his death would just come sooner than most.
But then a surgery— a life saving surgery—was offered in earnest. Doctor Tao took every waking moment to try and convince Shoto’s mother that it could be their only chance to save his young life from perishing too soon. Shoto found that he did not care for whichever path she chose. Life, to him, was not worth living, even if he was healthy.
His mother took up the offer only after consulting with Shoto’s father, who was too busy in Seoul to pay his dying son any mind. Not that Shoto cared for the man anyway. He hardly knew his father, he missed Shoto’s own birth for a business meeting in Taiwan. He was absent most of Shoto’s adolescence, and whenever he was around they’d never talk. Fathers were clearly overrated.
The surgery was scheduled to take place in September. And until then, Shoto was to remain on bed rest to avoid anything startling him too much. Which would prove to be difficult, considering they lived in the heart of Tokyo, where it was always lively with people and even more people.
And because of that, Shoto’s mother sent him away. Not away, away, but away from her. Away from Tokyo, just for the summer. Just until September. Just until his surgery. That’s what she had told him, over and over again. Once again, he found that he did not care where he was— or what happened to him.
He was to live with his mothers sister, Auntie Haruhi, until the time came for him to get his surgery over with.
In any case, the surgery was more for the sake of his mother than it was for him. Because, truly, he did not care if he died tomorrow, or the next day. It would have happened anyway.
Still, he sat in the passenger seat of his Aunt’s car, unresisting. If not for him, for his mother. He’d hate to leave her all alone in their home.
“Almost there. Feeling alright?” Asked Auntie Haruhi, snapping Shoto out of his daydream.
”Yeah.” He replied shortly.
She went quiet again after that. They’d never been close before, they wouldn’t be close now. It was probably best they kept it that way.
Shoto took to looking out the window to pass the time. Right away, he could tell when they had left the bustling city of Tokyo for the quaint suburbs of Musutafu. The neighborhood was very green, a stark difference to the shiny, grey skyscrapers, and neon signs that hung just about everywhere in Tokyo.
For a split second, he hoped his Aunt would let him explore his new home, but the idea went down the drain when he remembered why he was even visiting in the first place. His Aunt was just as protective of him as his mother was, maybe worse. He’d find out in the next few days.
After another ten minutes of driving in a single direction, she finally pulled into her driveway, breaking half way to curse out a ‘Damn, Chiyo’ and apologizing right after for cursing in front of Shoto.
She hopped out, telling him she’d be back in just a second, but that he was free to go inside the house if he pleased.
Shoto unbuckled so quickly, the metal smacked him right in the jaw.
He stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut, a few birds fluttering away from the tree tops.
Shoto inhaled a deep, deep breath. So deep he felt it rush to his head, stumbling a bit on his feet. The air was so nice. So fresh, smelling of nothing but nature. Dewy, uncut grass, overgrown summer flowers, too-hot sun rays.
It was perfect.
The fresh summer breeze swept his bangs to one side, mingling burgundy red and snow white strands together. The trees and bushes rustled along with the wind. It was nice. Indeed peaceful, like he’d been promised. Very quiet.
He stepped forward, stopping every five seconds to inspect something new he found, like a pretty flower he’d never seen before or a weird looking bug he found sleeping on one of the leaves of a eucalyptus plant.
After a few minutes of light exploring, he finally made it to the front yard of the house. The grass was unevenly cut in many places, and a scraggly, tan cat lazily sprawled itself on one of the longer tuffs of the bright green pasture. Shoto watched it from afar, the cats eyes going sharp, zoning in on something in another spot in the grass. Shoto walked a little closer to the spot the cat was creeping toward, squinting to see if he could spot anything curious.
Suddenly, the feline pounced, claws glinting in the sunlight as it dove straight for the object it was chasing, seemingly unsuccessful in its attempt.
Shoto watched in bemusement. Dumb cat.
Something caught his eyes in the grass. Something— someone bright green and tiny, running away with two leaves and a flower.
Shoto watched until the tiny person was out of sight before attempting to follow them. The cat let out a frustrated type of noise, and Shoto immediately put two and two together and decided that this wasn’t the first time it’s been outsmarted. A small smile marred it’s way onto his face, hands shoving in his sweater pockets before his Aunt called him inside for lunch.
He walked back to the house, his heart beating a little too fast to be safe from what he had the privilege of being able to witness.
He knew about the tiny people. He knew the stories. He just never thought he’d be able to see one up close. And one so beautiful.
He was led to his mother’s childhood room, where he’d be staying the next two months. Chiyo-san, his full time caretaker, handed him a small hand bell, telling him to ring it if he ever needed her or Aunt Haruhi, and then left his room to start on dinner.
Shoto sighed through his nose, rubbed his eyes with a fist, and crawled into bed. He’d certainly had enough excitement for one day.
He stayed in bed for the rest of the afternoon, only getting up to go down for dinner during the evening. He spent most of his time on his phone, watching cat videos on Youtube, texting his mother about his uneventful day in her pretty childhood home.
He couldn’t sleep. Despite it being dead silent, his head was filled to the brim with noisy thoughts about the day. About the tiny human he spotted in the garden.
He was staring at the ceiling when he saw one of the tissues in his tissue box start moving on it’s own. He stared at it for a moment, then he spotted the tiny person again. Wild green hair, star dusted cheeks, a huge smile on his face, looking off to the side, perhaps aimed at someone.
Shoto just watched, silently, trying hard not to breathe too loud in case he scared the little human away. Their eyes meet for the first time, the little human freezes, Shoto continued to stare, not making a single movement towards him.
Tiny Human looks scared, terrified even. Emerald eyes blown wide, a red flush on his small cheeks, slowly ducking down to hide behind the tissue paper, which was a bit comedic because Shoto could still see him. His silhouette, more specifically.
Something skittered to the floor, and Tiny Human’s shadow flinched, body leaning over the edge of the bedside table. He dropped something.
”Don't be afraid,” Shoto drawled, eyes trained on the silhouette.
Tiny Human is still for a long moment, seemingly consulting with someone, and then starts walking away, head hung. Shoto didn’t want him to leave.
”I saw you. In the garden. It was you, wasn't it?” He asked quietly, distantly aware that if this situation was taken out of context, it’d look like he was talking to himself. And perhaps he was. So desperate for a friend he’d started hallucinating. But Tiny Human was too vibrant to be fake, too pretty. There was no way his subconscious had created something so beautiful.
Shoto can’t see him anymore, Tiny Human, he’s not even sure if he’s still there, but he keeps talking, hoping he’s listening.
”My mother told me about you,” He mumbled to the tissue box where he last saw the boy. “She saw little people here when she was young.” He continued, slowly. “Was it you that she saw?”
Of course, there was no answer, and Shoto was certain the boy had gone minutes prior, but he still waited a moment.
He lifted his head off his pillow, leaning in closer to his bedside table. “Was it?”
No answer.
Disappointment seeped into his stomach, making him feel heavy all over, head falling back onto the fluffy pillow, a frown marring it’s way onto his face.
He rolled onto his side, and closed his eyes, letting himself finally drift to sleep, mind still buzzing.
The next morning, Shoto woke up to the sound of rain, a shiver chasing up his spine at the chilly atmosphere in his room.
The events of the night before startle him to sit upright, eyes flickering over to the tissue box, and then the floor, wondering what it was that Tiny Human dropped. It must’ve been tiny, just like him, so Shoto’d have to look very closely.
The boy ripped his comforters off, sliding on his slippers before getting on his hands, and knees in front of the wooden table to inspect the floor with a sharp eye.
Then he spots a sugar cube right below the spot where Tiny Human had been just the night before. Tiny Humans must have sweet tooth’s too. With that thought in mind, Shoto picks at it gently, careful to not crumble it in between his fingers, and places it on the table, rifling through some drawers for some paper and a pen. He’d just gotten the greatest idea.
Aunt Haruhi had been busy reading the newspaper, and Chiyo-san was making them breakfast, it was the perfect moment to sneak out into the backyard to find the drainage opening, and leave Tiny Humans sugar cube out for him to take.
He stepped out the back door, umbrella in hand, sugar cube in the other, as he walked further out into the grass, his slippers getting wet in the process.
He stopped in front of the draining opening, crouching down slowly, and placing the sugar cube, along with his note, on the edge. He hoped Tiny Human would take it as a peace offering. Maybe they could even be friends.
He stood up slowly, Aunt Haruhi yelling at him to come inside before he catches a cold. He stared at the sugar cube a second longer, before walking back inside.
Shoto was in his room, mindlessly reading a book Chiyo-san said would be good for his brain, when, suddenly, a half eaten sugar cube comes tumbling from the outside of his window. The noise startling his gaze away from the old pages of the book, the realization hitting too fast. His eyes flickered up to the window sill, where he spots the tiny silhouette standing behind a leaf.
Shoto blinked rapidly in surprise, his lips quirking up into a pleasant smile. How’d Tiny Human get up to the second floor?
“You came back,” Shoto breathed out, setting his book to the side. Tiny Human diminutively flinched, quickly stepping away from the leaf, disappearing out of Shoto’s line of sight, but Shoto wouldn’t let him leave so fast. Not this time. “Wait, don’t go.”
The shadow slowly came back into the light, his posture less confident this time around.
“We didn’t mean any harm, w-we just wanted some sugar. We’re sorry for getting caught, it won’t happen again.” Spoke the timid voice of Tiny Human.
He sounded very upset, it didn’t match with his bright aesthetic at all. Shoto wouldn’t stand for it.
“I want to talk to you.” He says, calmly, turning his body to face the window sill.
“S-some human beans are dangerous, though. My parents have no idea I’m doing this. I-I shouldn’t even be here right now!”
Shoto smiled at this.
“You have a family? I’m jealous.”
Tiny Human’s body turns to face him, hands nervously joining together in front of him.
“Don’t you have one?” He asks, timidly.
“I suppose,” Shoto sighed softly, eyes not leaving the window in case Tiny Human tried to escape without a goodbye. “But I hardly know my father, and my mother seems fed up with me lately.”
“Oh ...”
Shoto’s smile widened, eyes crinkling a bit with his blissed out expression.
“My name’s Shoto,” He said. “What’s your name?”
There’s no answer.
“Do you have one?”
“Of course I have a name!” Tiny Human squeaked. “It’s Izuku.”
Shoto grinned. “Izuku ... Izuku,” Testing the name on his lips. “That’s a beautiful name.”
Izuku fidgeted, head swirling to the side again.
A bated silence passed through the them. Shoto contemplated his next words, carefully.
“Won’t you let me see you? Just for a moment.” Shoto asked, quietly, breaking the mutualized silence.
Izuku jumped a little at the sudden noise, head swiveling back to Shoto’s direction. The little human shook his head firmly, fists clenched by his sides. Shoto frowned.
“Just a peek. Please?” Shoto pleaded.
The silhouette glanced to the side again, took in a deep breath and began taking hesitant steps towards the light when suddenly—
Caw! Caw! Caw!
A crow had swooped right into the screen of Shoto’s window, right where Izuku had been.
The boy shot up from his bed, stumbling toward the window, desperately trying to pry the stubborn window open. The black bird continued to flap its wings feverishly, creating a mess with its black feathers. The window cracked open and Shoto blindly reached for his new friend, eyes still focused on the winged rat, claws barely sinking into Shoto’s forearm.
The two toned boy grabbed for a leaf, feeling a light pressure in the palm of his hand, and prayed it was Izuku before tugging it off the stem, pulling it inside his room.
”What’s going on in—? A crow!!” A voice Shoto recognized to be Chiyo-san’s rang.
The teen backed away from the window quickly, concealing his hands behind his back while Chiyo-san hit the crow with her inside slipper, successfully knocking it out of the hole it made in the screen.
Shoto watched it roll off the side of the roof before it started flapping its wings, cawing loudly.
“What’s gotten into those damn birds?” Chiyo-san wondered out loud, eyes flickering over the torn screen.
The elderly woman let out a sigh of relief, face contorting with worry as she looked over to Shoto, who had taken a seat back on the bed, hands still behind his back.
“Are you alright? Maybe you should take some of your medicine.” She frowned, already reaching for the spoon on his bedside table.
“Thank you, Chiyo-san. But I feel fine.” He said, politely, smiling softly. His hands cupped firmly around the leaf, hoping his care taker wouldn’t notice.
She nodded solemnly, eyes suspiciously lingering on Shoto as she made her way toward the door, muttering something about replacing the screen. The boy turning his body in accordance to where she stood.
“Have yourself a nice long rest now.” She smiled dazedly, slowly pulling his door shut.
Once Shoto was sure she was gone, he languidly brought his hand from behind his back, hoping, praying that Izuku was still there.
To his disappointment, all that was in his palm was a leaf. Shoto’s heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. He sighed wistfully, laying back on the bed, eyes never leaving the green thing in his grip.
Then in a fit of grief, Shoto placed the leaf right on his face, letting it sit there as his mind drifted off to his new friend who left without a goodbye.
“Auntie Haruhi, what do you know about the Little People?” Shoto asked one night during dinner.
It had been a week since he’d last spoken to Izuku and it made the boy realize how little he knew about what Izuku actually was.
Auntie Haruhi halted in her eating, a shocked sort of expression marring it’s way onto her face, Chiyo-san mimicking it on her own wrinkled face.
”T-the Little People? Have— have you seen them?” Auntie Haruhi asked, eyes blown a little wide. Shoto swallowed down some noodles, nodding gently at her question.
Suddenly, Auntie Haruhi was crying and Shoto began panicking. Had he said something wrong? Was he not supposed to know about Izuku?
”Sh-Shoto! D-did you see the boy w-with the green hair? Was it h-him you saw?” She sniffled, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a napkin. Chiyo-san is rubbing her back reassuringly, a fond smile on her chapped lips.
Shoto nodded again, less calmly than earlier, and Auntie Haruhi only cried harder.
”A-auntie, are you alright—?”
“Shoto!! This is— it’s amazing!! I’m amazing!! I’m doing amazing!! Izuku, he’s— he’s healthy, yes?” She asked him, and Shoto nodded again, not trusting his voice not to crack.
”H-how do you know Izuku?” He whispered, head swirling with so many questions, he barely finds it in himself to not ask them all at once.
Auntie Haruhi laughed wetly, smearing the last bit of tears into her skin. “It was a long time ago when I first saw him. I’m sure not even he remembers this but when he was about five or six he accidentally ingested some of the aloe vera plant we have out in the garden, and suddenly there was a crying toddler sitting in the pasture!”
Shoto’s eyes widen in curiosity, amazement, he was enthralled. He silently urged his Aunt to continue her story, leaning his body toward her.
”His poor mother just about had a heart attack when she saw me holding her human sized son. Inko was a very nice woman, I hope I can see her again.” A distant smile crossed his Aunts face. “I brought them both inside, Inko explaining to me that in order for Izuku to go back to his regular size he needed to chew a mint leaf and the affects would take instantly. So that’s what I did, and then they were on their way.”
”I haven’t seen Inko in years, I used to consider her a friend, but she just disappeared and I was afraid they had moved without saying a goodbye.”
Shoto knows that feeling.
”But you seeing Izuku, it means— that they’re still here!! Inko’s still here!!” He’d never seen his Aunt so happy before, so full of life, so vibrant.
Chiyo-san pours each of them a cup of tea, the atmosphere felt so warm, so amazingly warm. It was so nice.
They continued to talk more about Little People, and Shoto conjured up another brilliant idea.
He’d make sure Izuku wasn’t afraid of him the next time they spoke, he’d make sure of it.
‘Let’s be friends’ is neatly scrawled onto a tiny slip of paper, a pretty orange flower accompanying the little note as he placed it on the edge of the drainage opening, like he had done with the sugar cube not that long ago.
He left right after, hoping the note wouldn’t be there the next day.
Shoto’s out in the garden, reading a book while he laid on his back. The mangy, old cat, his Auntie owned, sprawled out on his stomach while he mindless combed through its fur with his fingers.
The feline perked up slightly, ears swiveling toward one direction, eyes turning sharp as it glared at something behind Shoto’s head.
The boys heart rate sped up, eyes widening with hope as he held down the kitty, knowing fully well what it was after. He doesn’t turn, not until Izuku wants him to.
”You finally came.” He said, hair ruffling in the wind.
”I-I got your note. Thank you. F-for the flower, I mean!” Shoto’s heart melted at the voice. It felt like an eternity had passed since he’s last heard that voice.
“Of course.” Shoto smiled, itching to get a glimpse at the boy surely standing five inches behind him. “Can I ... can I see you? Please?”
Shoto wished he could see the boys face. See his reactions. “Um, s-sure.”
Two toned eyes widened, the realization sinking in as he hurriedly sat up from his spot on the grass. He took in a deep breath, calming his heart, before slowly turning his body to finally, finally see the boy he’s been dreaming about for weeks.
Shoto couldn’t hold back the gasp that slipped past his lips.
Izuku was ... absolutely stunning. Straight from a story book his mother would read to him when he was younger before he went to bed.
Tanned skin, red dusted freckled cheeks, luscious locks of dark emerald hair, matching with the boys pretty viridian eyes that sparkled like stars.
“You’re beautiful.” Shoto breathed, not being able to help himself.
Izuku flushed a dark red, the blush ascending all the way to his hairline, making him look like a strawberry. Shoto smiled down at him, leaning his face closer to the boy.
“Thank you, Sh-Shoto.” Izuku said, shyly, shuffling on his feet.
Warmth spread to Shoto’s cheeks at the use of his name. “So does this make us friends, Izuku?”
The greenette blinked up at him, before a blinding grin took over his entire face, making him glow like the sun. Shoto thought it was the brightest thing he’d ever seen.
”We’re friends, Shoto.”
“My auntie misses your mother.” Shoto said one day.
The two teens were sat out in the garden, playing a nice game of chess in the warm summer sun.
Izuku perked up, eyes flickering up to meet Shoto’s. “Your auntie?”
The two toned boy nodded, moving a white piece to take one of Izuku’s. The latter pouted at that, Shoto chuckled softly.
”I see her sometimes.” Izuku spoke, distantly. Pushing one of his black pieces that sat on the checkered board. “But I was too scared to say anything.”
”Why?” Shoto asked, taking yet another one of Izuku’s chess pieces.
Izuku shrugged, moving a black piece out of Shoto’s way. “My mother misses your auntie too. She talks about her sometimes. She even told me a story of when I accidentally grew to human bean size and how your auntie took care of me!!”
Shoto’s eyes widen. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about!”
Izuku startled violently, falling on his butt at Shoto’s sudden outburst. “Don’t do that!!” He whined, hiding his face in his arms, a blush taking over his cheeks.
”Sorry, sorry, but it’s true, right? That you can grow into human size?” He asked, leaning his face closer to Izuku’s tiny body.
“Yeah but I don’t like the taste of aloe vera!! It’s so gross!! Also, I have no reason to grow big so I’ve never tried it. Not on purpose, anyway.” Came the muffled answer, and Shoto nodded to himself.
”I would like to see you big before the end of summer, Izuku.” He murmured, gently ruffling the boys green hair with his pinky.
If Shoto died on the operation table, his only regret would be not hugging Izuku when he knew it was possible.
The greenette smiled up at him, grabbing onto his pinky and hugging it tightly against his chest. Shoto smiled back, fondly.
”I’ll see what I can do, Shoto.”
“I-Izuku?!”
There he sat, looking like he had just taken a beating. Clothes ripped in places that weren’t normal, a bruised eye, and a bloodied lip. His hair was more disheveled than usual, not as endearing as it would be under the circumstances, and it looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open.
”What happened to you?!” Shoto yelped, carefully picking up the boy from his window sill and placing him on the bed.
The tiny boy whimpered, shielding his eyes with his forearm. “I-I was attacked.” He warbled, lips trembling with emotion.
“By what?” Shoto spat, getting up to look around for something, anything that might help his injured friend. Nothing. There was nothing. Everything was just too big.
”A r-rat.” He sniffled.
”How'd you even get up here? You should’ve gone back with your mother! I have nothing to help you Izuku, I’m sorry.” Shoto sighed dejectedly, sitting back on the bed, head in his hands. What a horrible friend he was.
”I d-didn’t want to. She’d never let me out of the house again if she saw me like this. I’d never be a-able to see you again.”
Shoto sighed again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. His eyes were stinging but he refused to cry. Not right now. Right now, Izuku needed him.
”How can I help you? Please, you— you look horrible.”
Izuku‘s breath hitched in his chest as he dropped his arm from his face, tired eyes looking up at Shoto. ”T-turn me big, Shoto. Bring me an aloe vera plant a-and I’ll drink it. It’ll be easier for you to take care of me that way, r-right?” Shoto’s eyes widen.
”A-are you sure?” He asked, barely managing to hide the tremble in his voice.
Izuku nodded slowly. “Please.”
”I-Izuku—“
”Shoto, please.”
The two toned boy sighed and stood abruptly, entire body trembling with pure adrenaline. “I-I’ll be back, uh, don’t go anywhere.” Shoto said, pulling on a jacket.
”It’s not like I can go anywhere.” Izuku giggled, flinching in pain as he placed a careful hand on his side.
”R-right sorry—!”
”Just hurry, please.”
”R-right!”
”Shoto, where are you going?! It’s windy out!” Auntie Haruhi yelped, chasing after the boy. “Stop running, that’s not good for you!”
Shoto ran toward the aloe vera plant, tripping over his feet a few times in the process.
”Shoto! What’s going on? What’re you doing?!” Haruhi squawked, heart hammering in her chest from the run. She could only imagine Shoto’s.
”Shoto, we have to go back inside, right now!” She spoke firmly, grabbing hold of her nephews arm, only for it to be tugged out of her grasp.
”Shoto!”
”Izuku needs help! Please! I-I need to get this to him, please!” He pleaded, holding a small piece of the slimy, green plant tightly in his hand.
Haruhi jumped back, a loud gasp rattling out of her mouth. “I-Izuku? He’s— he’s hurt?”
”Yes, and he’s in my room! He needs me, he needs us! Please!” Shoto had never begged so much in his life. Nothing was important enough to make Shoto succumb down to begging. But Izuku— Izuku was definitely important.
Haruhi nodded dazedly, eyes distant as Shoto stood up from the dirt and began rushing back to the house. She followed closely behind him, head still spinning.
”I-Izuku! Izuku! I brought you the plant! Here! Here!” Shoto skidded into the room, rushing straight over to his friend who was still in the same position he was in five minutes ago.
”Oh my ...” His Aunt gasped from behind him, taking in the sight of Izuku’s battered body. “Izuku.”
An emerald eye cracked open, face contorting into a pitiful smile as the injured boy tried sitting up against the pillow.
”Don’t move so much. Here, look, I brought the aloe. Drink it fast please, I don’t want to see you like this anymore.” Shoto pleaded, shakily peeling the hard skin off the plant, expansions of slimy, opaque insides dripping onto the floor.
Shoto brought the plant to Izuku’s face, the tiniest droplet sliding off his finger, right into the awaiting mouth of Izuku who gulped it down, immediately gagging as the liquid touched his tongue.
And just like that, the boy began to grow. Shoto and Haruhi stumbled backwards, almost tripping over each other as Izuku’s limbs began to stretch, his head growing ten times its normal size, everything was growing. It was like watching a flower grow in time lapse, the poof of pretty green hair enough to make that comparison.
When Izuku’s body finally settled, Shoto was almost afraid to touch him, to even get near the now fully grown boy lying silently on his bed, eyes screwed shut. Every injury the boy sported was now even more visible, looking more painful then when it did when the boy was small.
”Did it work?” Izuku whispered, still not opening his eyes.
Shoto could not speak. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t speak. Nothing would come out of his mouth. All he could do was stare. Stare at the pretty boy lying in his bed with his eyes drawn shut, and a pretty pink color dusting its way onto his cheeks. Shoto didn’t think he could breathe.
Haruhi answered for the poor boy. “Yes, Izuku, it— it worked.”
And suddenly, emerald eyes were shot wide open, head lifting off the bed to survey his surroundings rapidly. When those eyes landed on Shoto, the two toned boy feels like all the air had left his lungs. They blinked at him, and then crinkled at the corners, Izuku’s tired smile being the cause.
“Shoto.” He breathed.
The boy snapped back into reality. The reality being that his tiny friend had just grown to about his size, was now lying on his bed in minimal clothing, all while smiling beautifully at him like an angel.
”I-Izuku. Hi.”
He giggled quietly. “Hello.”
Haruhi cleared her throat loudly, probably ruining a very important moment for the two teenagers, but one of them was seriously injured, and the other needed to calm down before his heart exploded. Literally.
The boys flushed, and Haruhi smiled mostly to herself. “I’m sure this must be very exciting for the both of you, but Izuku is very hurt, and I think we should prioritize that first.”
Shoto agreed silently, eyes flitting over to Izuku ever other second. Too pretty. He was too pretty not to stare at. Not to appreciate.
”What should I do?” Shoto asked. Haruhi frowned.
”You need to rest. You could have over exerted yourself, running like that.” She chastised.
”But I feel fine! I’ll take my medicine if that’ll make you feel better!” Shoto argued, not wanting to feel useless in this situation. For once in his life.
”No, Shoto.” Haruhi said, walking over to Izuku’s limp body, brushing the boys hair off his forehead with a gentle hand.
Green eyes trailed over to the pouting, two toned boy. Their eyes meet again, a matching blush taking over both boys cheeks.
”I-I want to help!” He argued weakly, almost sounding like a whine, trying hard to ignore the stare he felt from the greenette.
”Keep Izuku company while I tend to his injuries. That’s how you can help.” Haruhi ordered gently, a foot out the door. “I’m going to get the first aid kit. Stay here.”
Shoto gulped watching her swiftly walk out of the room, leaving him alone with the barely conscious boy in his bed.
Keep him company? Shoto could do that.
With the help of Chiyo-san, who had the hands of a wizard, Izuku was cleaned up, given some of Shoto’s clothes in exchange for his torn up ones, and was now being spoon fed warm chicken soup by Aunt Haruhi.
Like he was instructed, Shoto stayed by Izuku’s side the entire time, hovering over the boy just like his mother had shown him how. At some point they’d started holding hands, and it took everything in Shoto to not scream. Haruhi seemed to think it was hilarious, hiding a teasing smile behind her palm.
”All done!” Chiyo-san cheered, placing a final plaster on a cut, slashed into Izuku’s shin.
”Thank you very much.” Izuku smiled drowsily, taking in a final spoonful of broth. Shoto smiled fondly down at him, subconsciously squeezing the boys hand. Izuku squeezed back.
”No worries, dearie. You and Shoto should rest a bit. It’s been a long day.” Chiyo-san packed up the first aid kit, Aunt Haruhi following, cleaning the bowls of chicken soup that were piled up on Shoto’s bedside table.
Shoto hadn’t even noticed the sun going down, his focus solely being on Izuku, and the hand tightly gripping onto his.
”Izuku’s staying?” Shoto asked, hopefully.
Aunt Haruhi shrugged softly. “I need to find Inko, tell her that Izuku’s safe. She’s probably worried sick.”
”We live underneath the wood planks in the closet behind the stairs. Y-You’ll probably find my parents there.” Izuku spoke up, propping up his upper body to lay on Shoto’s pillow. They still haven’t let each other’s hands go, Shoto noticed, but doesn’t say anything.
“Will she want to see you?” Haruhi asked, suddenly looking anxious.
“Definitely.”
She sighed, running a hand through light grey hair before letting it drop to her side. “Ok. Uh—ok. I’ll be back. Rest up, you two.”
And just like that, the two adults had left the room leaving Shoto alone with Izuku, hands still joined together, the grip not loosening even a little.
It’s silent for a long moment, and Shoto thinks Izuku might’ve finally drifted off to sleep. He peeked over to the side a bit, startling back when he found emerald eyes already staring at him.
”Y-you scared me!” Shoto chuckled nervously, cheeks burning a bright red shade.
Izuku giggled softly, a thumb brushing over Shoto’s knuckles. “Sorry. You’re just—“ Freckled cheeks splotch with color. “You’re really pretty, Shoto.”
“O-oh, I— uh—“ Shoto feels lightheaded. He cannot breathe. Pretty? Him? “Th-thank you.”
He should say something back! Izuku was also very pretty! Shoto should tell him!
”Y-you’re very green!” Crap. Back track, back track! “I-I mean, you’re— you’re also very pretty, uh, it’s just—!”
Loud, boisterous laughter cut him off from saying anything else. Shoto’s cheeks heat up as he watched his friend throw his head back on the pillow, infectious giggles spilling from his lips.
“St-stop laughing!” Shoto playfully shoved the laughing boys arm, careful not to touch any cuts or bruises.
”I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Izuku panted, red faced, and still grinning like a maniac. “I’m not laughing at you, Shoto, I promise. I’m just ...” A subtle squeeze to his hand sends a jolt of electricity up Shoto’s arm. “I’m happy.”
“H-happy?” He echoed back.
Izuku nodded, wide grin simmering down to a soft smile. “You make me happy.”
Shoto’s cheeks burn again. It burns all the way to his hairline. Flustered! He’s so flustered!
”I-I make you happy?” He whispered faintly, heartbeat loud and sporadic in his ears.
Izuku nodded again, more firmly this time. More determined. Suddenly, very serious.
“Get closer to me, I need to tell you something important.” The greenette whispered, tugging at their intertwined fingers.
Shoto obliged without hesitation, leaning his face closer and closer and closer, until the tips of their noses were brushing each other. They stared for a little while, and Shoto wondered if Izuku was thinking about kissing him too. Because Shoto so badly wanted to kiss Izuku into oblivion.
Suddenly, two hands were encased around his head, leading him further down the way to Izuku’s face. Shoto shuts his eyes tightly, expecting to feel lips press against his.
Instead, they brush against the shell of his ear. “Get better for me, Shoto. Stay alive, for me.” A hand presses against Shoto’s chest, right above his heart, and the boy shuddered, eyes suddenly beginning to sting in a way he’s not too familiar with.
He pulled his head back, desperately trying to see Izuku, to see that he was real. That this wasn’t a dream. A figment of his imagination.
The boy below him is already crying, streaks of hot tears creeping down the sides of his face, bottom lip trembling with concealed in emotion.
Shoto wanted to ask how he knew. How could he know that Shoto was sick and dying? A single tear completely bypassed Shoto’s cheek, landing right on Izuku’s freckled one.
“I-I overheard your Aunt talking a-about it with Chiyo-san. I didn’t mean to spy, I-I swear! But—but I don’t w-want you to d-die, Shoto! Y-you can’t die!” The normally smiley, overjoyed boy who Shoto played chess with in the garden, was long gone. It horrified Shoto to see someone who was usually so happy, look so heartbroken.
”I-I’m not going to die! Izuku! Look at me!” It was perhaps a bit of a stretch to make such a promise, when in fact the surgery could go either way. “I’m not going to die. I promise.”
Promises were scary. You shouldn’t promise something you’re not in control of. Shoto didn’t know if he was going to survive the surgery or not. 70 percent survival rate is what Dr. Tao told him and his mother. What happens to the other 30 percent? Well, they quite simply die.
Your life could end in a matter of seconds. You‘re either in the 70 percent of people who live long lives, living until they could no longer walk on their own, wrinkles taking over their entire face. Or the 30 percent Shoto was afraid he might fall under. The people who die young, prematurely, the ones who never stood a chance because their fate was written in the stars a long time ago.
What was Shoto’s fate? Where would he fall under? For the first time in his 16 years of life, Shoto wanted to be in that 70 percent. He wanted to live. He wanted to live to see tomorrow, and the next day, and the next and so on and so forth.
He bumps his forehead against Izuku’s, shutting his eyes and heaving a sigh that feels like it’s cleared his chest of something rotten.
“I want to live for you.” Shoto whispered, butterfly kissing Izuku’s nose with his. “I will live for you. Do you understand? I’m not going anywhere.”
Shoto would live to see tomorrow. But not just tomorrow. He’d live to see Izuku.
Feather like lips peck Shoto’s in the quickest, most softest kiss anyone could ever manifest.
Izuku had kissed him. Kissed him so softly, Shoto almost melted.
”I-I’m sorry, I should've—“
Shoto shuts him up with a kiss of his own. One more desperate, needier, more firm than the previous one. Shoto kisses him so hard, so fast that their mouths clash against each other in a painful array of teeth. They kiss hungrily, quickly, tongues hesitantly coming into play. They kiss like it’s the last one they’ll ever get, and perhaps it is. But Shoto was determined for it not be. Because he’d live to see a thousand more days. He’d live to be with Izuku. He’d live for moments like this. Desperate, sexual moments that he suddenly craved with one person, and one person only.
Todoroki Shoto was sick, but he would live.
He’d live to see tomorrow, and he’d live to see Midoriya Izuku one million more times.
That he could promise.