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Izuku was four years old when he learned that he would never develop a quirk. Four years old when his biggest dream of becoming a hero who saves people dissipated into nothing but a fantasy. While Kacchan and the rest of his childhood friends were exercising their quirks and already coming up with hero names as they played pretend and went exploring, Izuku was fated to always play the citizen in peril.
His mom did the best she could trying to comfort him, but he could tell that even she had little idea how to help a child that was part of the twenty percent who were different from the rest of the world. But not even the sadness that came with not having a quirk could dampen Izuku's excitement of heroes and their abilities. He continued to admire All Might, bundled up in his Silver Age onesie as his mom read him bedtime stories.
Then, one night not long after his fifth birthday, Izuku had a dream. A dream that made him feel wonderful. Brown eyes and a laugh that filled him with so much happiness and comfort he thought he might burst. When he awoke, he remembered nothing of the face he saw, only that it was a girl's. About his age probably, and that she must be the prettiest person he'd ever seen, even though he couldn't remember a single feature.
But as nice as the dream made him feel, it puzzled his four-year-old mind. The fourth time he woke up with the strange feeling rattling through his little heart, he told his mother about it.
"Oh, Izuku. That means you have a soulmate," she told him, tears welling up in her eyes.
"A soul… mate…? What's that?"
Inko Midoriya gathered the small boy in her arms. "It's someone who is destined to be special to you, and you to them. Sometimes you marry them, like I did your father, and sometimes you are best friends for the rest of your lives."
A best friend? He used to think Kacchan was his best friend, but they rarely got along anymore. The other boy made fun of him in front of the other kids and even hit him.
Useless Deku, Kacchan called him. All because he didn't have a quirk. The only person that didn't seem to care about his quirklessness was his mother. What if he did meet the pretty girl from his dreams and she found out he was different from everyone else? Would she not want to be his best friend afterward? Izuku wasn't sure he wanted to experience another Kacchan level rejection from someone who was supposedly destined to be special to him.
Izuku wasn't sure if he liked the idea of having a soulmate, even if his mother seemed overjoyed at the whole concept.
"I don't want a soulmate, mommy," he told her, but wouldn't elaborate further than that. He knew it would upset his mother, and he didn't want to see her cry over him again.
Instead, Inko gathered the boy in her arms and held him tightly. Izuku relished feeling safe and warm in in mother's arms and couldn't imagine anything else comparing to cocoon of love he had been wrapped in back then.
The All American Dream Plan was grueling, but he was more than willing to work his body into a fine tuned machine if it meant he could could inherit the quirk of the number one hero. He'd have the power to help so many people. The dream of the soulmate he'd probably never meet might haunt him for the rest of his life, but at least now his dream of being a hero who protected and made people smile would be in reach.
More than anything Izuku wanted to prove to Kacchan and all the other kids that had doubted him that he could be a hero—he could be helpful. Meeting All Might and getting the opportunity to inherit his quirk seemed like serendipity. Things were looking up, and Izuku was feeling the first stirrings of hope for the first time in a long time.
He had purpose. He felt good. The blurry faced girl still made frequent appearances in his unconscious pictures during his ten months of training with All Might, but Izuku kept himself too busy to lament the ghost of what could never be. Cleaning the trash off the beach was cathartic for him—it felt like he was sweeping away the chaff of his past; getting rid of the parts that weighed him down and made him feel heavy-hearted.
Inheriting the power wasn't a big rush of power, it wasn't some earth-tipping cataclysm like he'd always imagined it to be. He ate the lock of cornflower hair and had braced himself for a whirlwind to move through his newly refined body.
But none came
He swallowed and once the oddity of it all sank in, he was met with normal Izuku Midoriya, standing on an empty beach with the number one hero beaming proudly at him.
"It won't be immediate, Young Midoriya. The power will come when you need it, just do exactly what I told you!"
And just like that, he was rushing off to take the entrance exam that would be the deciding factor if all of this effort on All Might's part had been worth it.
The cataclysmic shift he had been anticipating on the beach didn't come until he was in front of prestigious U.A, and it had nothing to do with the power of One For All. It came from an easy touch, five fingers pressed into his shoulder and the feeling of his stomach jumping into his throat.
His clumsy feet had tripped him up right in front of the most touted hero school in the country on the most important day of his life so far. But somehow the sidewalk stopped getting closer and he found himself in midair, bobbing for only a moment before he was tipped back to his feet.
"It's bad luck to fall on your first day. Hope you didn't mind me using my quirk on you before asking."
Izuku tried to summon words, but they all expired in his throat before he could manage it. She was brown-haired and rosy-cheeked and smiling. And Izuku felt like his insides had more in common with a fizzy soda than he had ever wanted them to,and uh oh. She was very pretty.
Something seemed to shift, clicking in place. It was like getting déjà vu for a dream he didn't even realize he had.
He wasn't even able to muster the strength to stutter out a thank you before she was wishing him luck and flitting off as quickly as she'd come.
And for a moment, neither Kacchan nor Izuku's own nervousness had any power over him.
He slinked home after his lackluster performance during the entrance exam in a trance. He'd had so many close calls, but he didn't regret helping the pretty girl he'd met outside instead of running to the next objective. After her kindness, it seemed wrong to not return the favor.
But it hadn't exactly helped him. Izuku had already come to terms with the fact that he'd blown his chance. He wouldn't do anything differently, but he understood the chance he'd squandered.
He vaguely remembered scalding hot water raining down on his sore muscles under the spray of his shower. He ate the delicious meal his mother prepared in celebration and tried not to cast a pall on what she was trying to do. Izuku crawled into bed ready for sleep to overcome him and pull him into a restful void for a few hours.
Instead he got the same dream he's been having since he was a child. The blurred face and a tentative happiness that he could feel blooming even through the thick unconsciousness.
Except this time, it wasn't so blurred.
Unidentifiable features morphed into a clear picture for the first time. Warm brown eyes, rosy cheeks and a soft smile left no room to doubt who he'd been dreaming about for all those years.
Cruelty really didn't know any bounds.
He spent less time than most of his middle school classmates worrying about soulmates. As much as he usually enjoyed studying and the pursuit of knowledge, most of that was laser-focused on his studies and his fascinations with quirks and heroes. Almost no reading on soulmates other than the cursory common knowledge most people had because it was so much a part of their culture.
Yet, even Izuku in all his ignorance about soulmates, knew exactly what it meant when the hazy, warm face in his dreams suddenly cleared.
Getting his results back had been strange. After preparing himself for the rejection he knew was coming, he was shocked to see her of all people in the video, pleading with their teachers to let her give her points away to help him instead.
He'd been alone through most of middle school, and the pretty girl being willing to stand up for him even if it cost her own spot on the prestigious school made his chest lurch as he listened to All Might telling him his dream was coming true after all.
He was a student at U.A High.
Funny thing was, somehow, both dreams were now pressing against his chest in a way he never anticipated.
"You okay, Deku-kun?" a voice called to him. "You seem a little in your head. More so than usual."
Izuku shook his mop of green curls as if sheading the thoughts from his mind. "Oh… Y-yeah! I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."
She cocked her head to the side, as if contemplating something.
The only thing more shocking than the fact that someone like Ochako Uraraka was his destined soulmate was the realization that she'd not only wriggled her way into his dreams since he was a small boy, but also into his heart where the most tentative and warm friendship had bloomed.
And it was friendship in its purest form—firmly planted, totally platonic comradery.
At least on Uraraka's part.
Izuku gave her the smallest of assuring smiles before turning to his mechanical pencil on his desk, idly pushing the eraser down with his thumb to expel more lead from the tip.
He himself wasn't as sure about the nature of their relationship from his end. He'd been conflicted enough when he realized that they were soulmates, but now that they'd ended up in the same class and close friends like they were, things had changed.
Uraraka was an enigma to him. Her kindness, her patience, the way she'd used the cruel childhood nickname like it was a badge of honor instead of a scarlet letter. He's spent years haunted by being a 'useless Deku,' and somehow a girl he just met managed to change it a victory cry by just mistakenly thinking that was his actual name.
She'd changed everything for him, and she didn't seem to have a clue.
And all of that—as great as it was—paled in comparison in her capabilities as a hero.
Maybe things would have been easier had they not been in the exact same class, but of course they were.
"Well, if you say you're okay…" Uraraka spoke again after a pause. Her voice was soft and low, meant only for him to hear, and his insides did their best impression of a pretzel as they overlapped and knotted.
He looked over again to offer her the best reassuring look he could manage. That seemed to satisfy her.
Aizawa-sensei lumbered into the room and she hurried back to her own seat and Izuku turned his attention back to the fascinating workings of his mechanical pencil.
The lesson began and Izuku raked a hand through his curls, contemplating the oddity of the whole concept of soulmates. Dreaming of an unknown someone until you meet them and everything was made clear. What were you supposed to do after that? How do you even approach that?
"Oh, you're my soulmate, Uraraka-san. Want to go out sometime?"
The thought alone made hot blood pump into his cheeks at an alarming rate. It all sounded so painfully cliché and contrived. Perhaps it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. And maybe he could have shrugged it all off, but Uraraka was great and had proved herself a true friend. He'd never made a friend so easily or quickly in all of his life.
Was that part of the soulmate bond?
Izuku started frequenting the library, doing research on soulmates on top of his regular hero studies. He got his hands on an audio book about them, which suited when he would go on jogs and train. He'd developed the habit of learning more on the go, wireless headphones in his ear as he hopped around Gym Gamma. The pleasant female voice droned on about dreams and the bond shared between people through being soulmates.
He'd wondered if maybe it wasn't always mutual. Seemed like a dumb thing to think; it would defeat the purpose of soulmates. Mates implied mutuality.
Izuku had always assumed the mutuality was a given, anyway. But Uraraka had never said a word to him about seeing him in her long running dream. Was it possible not everyone saw the dream in bright clarity after the first meeting?
Or was she simply not interested in him in that way and decided it would be more merciful to just continue being his friend instead of revealing he was her soulmate and letting him down right after? That seemed more likely to Izuku.
The sensation of One for All flowed through all his muscles as he hopped from pipes and craggy mountains of cement using the power of shoot style.
"Soulmates are not always romantic, contrary to the romantic connotations that the concept usually carries," the woman continued in his ear. "There are also soulmates who are just destined to be part of each other's lives. True kinship—more spiritual than family or friendship bonds but not intimate like a lover. Platonic soulmates, as they're usually referred to."
His red sneakers landed atop of a plateau of rock on top of a twisted branch of rebar jutting from it. The green lightning zipping across his limbs ceased and the flurry of power within him calmed down. He sat where he landed, pausing the book and pursing his lips as he pondered what he just heard.
More than friends but not romantic? He had always assumed soulmates were romantic as a general rule, but apparently that wasn't necessarily the case. Izuku wondered how his classmates were approaching the idea of soulmates in their own lives. He wasn't aware of any pair-ups among them, romantic or otherwise. It was very possible that none of their soulmates were at U.A, or that they were merely like him, unwilling to give voice to the truth to keep some semblance of normalcy.
And trying desperately not to screw up the most meaningful friendship he ever had.
Izuku sighed at the endless circle of logic that continued to churn around in his head, hopping from the gnarled platform of rebar and onto the rock. He fished out his phone and pressed play, the woman's voice continuing the presentation.
The familiar rush of his borrowed quirk crackling around him as he dug his red sneakers against the rock filled him with energy. A nervous energy, all considering, and he jumped off into the air once more, the drone of the audiobook a soundtrack to his quirk conditioning.
Izuku's nights now usually consisted of studying with some mixture of his friends and classmates, showering, then crawling into bed. Uraraka was more prominent in his dreams than she ever had been before. He assumed it was due to the fact that they were only getting closer as year continued. He went from seeing just her smiling visage, to seeing entire sizzle reels of them doing menial things together, studying, walking around campus, sparring.
Uraraka's razor focus on her goals was something else about her he admired. She claimed that she came to UA for the sake of taking care of her parents' financial needs, and Izuku was sure there was plenty of truth in that. But he also knew how much she had dusted him off, knew how determined she was to better herself after the sports festival. She pursued her goals with an almost reckless abandon—no room for distractions. The perfect example to him of heroism and goal achievement, no matter how much she tried to deny it.
Which seemed ironic, because it just a several months, she'd managed to become both his biggest distraction and motivator.
Sitting at his desk in class, Izuku knew that Midnight-sensei was speaking. He could hear her voice, but he could tell you anything she said. His eyes were glued to the back of Uraraka's head, lingering on short mahogany hair.
The only reason he even knew class had ended was because the others started to stand, Uraraka included. Izuku quickly snapped his notebook shut, throwing his pens and pencils in their case and haphazardly shoving them into his yellow backpack.
Not wanting to loiter too long, he quickly shot up from his seat and made a straight shot for the door. As much as he enjoyed talking to Uraraka, the closer they got, the more vivid and frequent the dreams became.
He had to keep a level head, and he needed space to figure how to do that as close as they were (and he wanted to continue to be). The audiobooks were clear—she should be having dreams about him just as he was about her, but she also was remaining completely silent on the subject.
When soulmates came up at all, (which they did often—Mina was fascinated by them) Uraraka always broke off to a different conversation with someone else.
Izuku felt it was safe to assume that she was happy with their relationship as it was. On days his dreams were especially disorienting, his imagination was good at letting him entertain thoughts that did either of them little good. It was hard to have a proper conversation with her, because she was always smiling, and all he could think about was her warmth and kindness. It was hard to keep foolish notions from bubbling from his lips, or his brain from imagining the feather light touch of her fingers against his hand.
Except the pad of her pinky, though. She wouldn't want to float him, of course.
Izuku got a vision of the both of them floating above campus, alone. Maybe then he could have the courage to admit to her what he was feeling.
Shocked by the thought, he shook his head, willing it away as he passed through the threshold of Midnight's classroom and into the hallway traffic
Someone might have called out Deku, but he wasn't sure
"Deku-kun, are you alright?"
They were all walking back to the dorms in a large group a few days later. Izuku had been trying his best to pull away from the situation and spare Uraraka a bit of his spastic behavior. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.
But staying away proved extremely difficult, especially when it felt like something inside him just naturally gravitated toward her. So while walking back to the dorms, he fell comfortably in line beside her. Of course she wanted to talk a bit.
"I'm fine, Uraraka-san!" he assured her, adjusting the straps of his yellow backpack on his shoulders.
"Are you sure? You've been kind of distant lately."
Of course she would notice. Guilt colored his insides like the flush of bashfulness from her being so close all the time colored his cheeks. He should have known better—they spent too much time together for the space he was self-imposing to go unnoticed.
"Y-yeah," he assured her, "I'm sure I'm fine. Just been feeling a little under the weather lately."
Izuku hated lying, especially to Uraraka, but what else could he say?
"Oh, I've been purposely keeping my distance from you, Uraraka-san. I know you're my soulmate and you must definitely know I'm yours, yet we never talk about it. I also have been nursing feelings for you for months now that I'm pretty sure one friends shouldn't have for another. And I'm terrified letting you know or talking about our soulmate bond will ruin everything, so I'm keeping quiet and it's making me do stupid things."
Uraraka playfully nudged his shoulder. "Well, just let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
And honestly, Izuku was convinced that she was the only one who really could. But to accept her help would be to be honest with her, and honesty was risky.
That night came the most vivid dream about Uraraka he'd ever had. It was one of the stranger ones—completely quiet like a silent movie. She was speaking to him, he could tell that by the movement of her lips, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying.
Izuku couldn't tell where they were, but the room was stark white. For once she wasn't smiling, but instead was telling him something very seriously. Not knowing what she was saying did nothing to stop the hammering of his heart even within his subconscious thoughts. Whatever she was saying, his dream hazed mind seemed to understand.
If felt akin to home, security.
Reciprocation.
Wait, was that part real? Izuku couldn't quite explain it, but he had a feeling within that felt more instinct that anything, telling him he wasn't alone in this. Dream Uraraka was saying she felt the same for him as he did for her.
In as many times as he'd dreamt of her over the years, the idea of the yearning going both ways had never occurred to him. Izuku felt his chest constrict, the sweetest uncertainty imaginable. At least he'd always have these dreams, if nothing else.
Izuku was in his room the following Tuesday evening, going over his notes from class that day. Uraraka had been absent, today being her work study day with Nejire and Tsuyu. Things between them had remained mostly the same. They weren't talking nearly as much as they usually did. When Uraraka did take the initiative to check in on him, it was like the distance had never been there. Until Izuku burrowed himself in his head and pulled back.
He gripped his pencil tighter, sighing. This really was a big mess. He remembered wishing as a child that the dreams would stop and he could go back to before he had a soulmate.
Now on the cusp of adulthood, the whole bond making his relationship with his best friend so complicated, he felt that should reinforce how he felt back then. But he didn't. The dreams he had now after meeting her were so happy and light. In them, he was free to feel how he felt without worry. He could smile at her, hold her hand. It was uncomplicated.
Until last night's dream. The hope had almost been as cruel as all the doubt he'd experienced.
But as painful as it was, he couldn't bring himself to wish it away. Her friendship was precious to him, and, honestly, there was a part of Izuku that puffed out his chest a little at the knowledge she was his soulmate and no one else's. He wanted to continue to be close to Uraraka, to get even closer.
They'd all come so far as heroes since that first week here at U.A., her especially. He wanted to see her get even stronger and achieve all her goals. He wanted to be there to cheer her on.
So no, he wouldn't change anything. If their bond assigned from childhood was truly destined to never be acknowledged, Izuku could live with that, as long as they were together in some capacity.
Still, his chest knotted, and he knew there would always be an edge of dissatisfaction. He sighed and his head thunked against his desk on top of the notebook littered with notes on Aizawa-sensei's desk.
Perhaps it was time to find a better way to deal with this. He wanted his study partner back.
Izuku sat there for at least a few minutes, face first on his work when he felt the whole thing buzz rhythmically. He turned over to see his notification light blinking. He reached over and double tapped the screen with his finger to get it to light up.
It was text from Asui. Which wasn't strange. Asui and himself were friends—she messaged him frequently enough, but he knew she, Uraraka, and Hadou were with Ryukyu for their work study.
He peered at the message before his face went deathly pale.
Asui: [4:13PM] Midoriya-kun, don't panic or anything, but Ochako-chan has been hit with some sort of sleeping quirk. She's fine and we've already brought her back to Recovery Girl but she's been saying she wants to see you. She's a little delirious still from the villain's quirk, but she can carry a conversation. Come by if you want.
Izuku didn't even bother replying. He crammed his phone into his pocket and bolted from his room.
Izuku burst into Recovery Girl's office, who immediately looked up from some paperwork to glower at him.
"I know you're here to see Uraraka-san, but you could do to be a little bit considerate of other patients that may be in here."
He felt his face head up and bowed repeatedly, "I-I'm so sorry! I guess I just panicked!"
Recovery Girl sighed. "Well, I suppose I can forgive you, Midoriya-san. She is in the other room. I healed her minor cuts and scrapes but the only thing she can do in terms of the quirk is wait for it to wear off. Be careful, she's still a little delirious so she might not make much sense."
Izuku shuffled into the other room. Asui was sitting in a chair by the bed and Uraraka was propped up on one of the cots, convalescing.
"Deku-kun~~!" she sing-songed as she entered, her voiced slurred but happy. "It's about time you showed up. I thought you were still mad at me."
He shook his head rapidly. "I'm not mad at you, Uraraka-san!" I don't think I've ever been upset with you."
"Hmm…" she fell back down on the cot. "Maybe I was the one mad at you, then."
Izuku balked at the statement. Had he really upset her?
Asui got up from the chair and made her way over to him, commenting to Uraraka as she went. "Don't be mean to Midoriya-kun," she then turned her attention on Izuku. "I wouldn't worry about what she says too much. She's coming out of it, but the villain's quirk puts its victims in a state of light sleep. Ochako-chan thinks she's dreaming and she's playing along with everything, but she's totally awake. Besides being a little groggy and out of it, she's okay. Hope my message didn't scare you."
Of course, he'd felt stabbing dread when he read it. Anytime he'd heard or seen her get injured in any way his heart always found itself in his throat. But he knew she was strong, so it wasn't near as nerve wracking as it once had been.
But to unpack that right now wasn't a good idea, so he instead laughed shakily. "O-oh, no, I was fine! Thank you so much for letting me know so I could come see her."
It seemed like it wasn't serious. Asui wasn't worried, so it was a safe bet to trust her.
"Well, I'm going to go back to the common room. You got it from here?"
Izuku nodded. "Yes! Thank you, Asui-san!"
Asui was halfway out of the room and didn't even look back as she called out a correction over her shoulder. "It's Tsu, Midoriya-kun!"
"Okay, enough schmoozing, Deku-kun! Come sit down—I have a few things to say to you since this is a dream. Hopefully then I'll be able to get over it."
Uraraka's eyes were lidded, and her words were more slurred than they had been a few moments prior. She was the picture of grogginess, either right before waking or falling asleep.
"Get over what, Uraraka-san?" he questioned as he crossed the room, sitting down in the chair that Asui had occupied when he came in. Uraraka was still laying down, eyes turned straight towards the ceiling. She was in her school uniform—apparently, they'd gotten her out of her hero costume at some point.
"Hmm. The fact that…" she shifted, trailing off as she yawned loudly. "you even ask is… hmm…"
The yawn seemed to set something off and she closed her eyes, humming before going mouse quiet. Izuku stared at his sleeping classmate with eyes wide, her cheeks even rosier than usual from the flush of unconsciousness.
He felt alarm spread through his limbs, blood suddenly hot. "R-Recovery Girl! Uraraka-san passed out!"
He heard the shuffle of slippers against the tile floor. "Now, now, Midoriya-san. Calm down. It's just an effect of the quirk. She should slip into real sleep for a few minutes and wake up fully recovered. The quirk only makes her think she's dreaming. It's a good way to disorient heroes. I'm told that's the idea, anyway."
Izuku felt slight embarrassment over how quick he was to get worked up. "Oh, well, that's good."
The small woman nodded. "I'm glad that you're here, actually. Would you be willing to carry her back to her room? I don't think she's in any danger whatsoever, and I'm sure she'd rather wake up in her bed than in one of these lumpy cots," Izuku's insides suddenly stirred up, and he opened his mouth with a squeak at the thought of carrying his sleeping friend to her bed. Recovery girl clicked her tongue. "If you're not comfortable, I can of course send for one of the girls. But Uraraka-chan is dead weight right now and you have the predominant strength quirk in the school. It's up to you, dear."
Izuku knew she was right. He couldn't let his nerves get in the way of doing the right thing. "N-no, that won't be necessary! I'd be happy to help Uraraka-san back to her dorm!"
Recovery girl clapped her hands together. "Excellent! Now get going so I can have some peace and quiet in my recovery station again."
Izuku obediently carried Uraraka back to her dorm with little trouble. She was just a little heavy, mostly because she was out cold and therefore dead weight in his arms. The trek up to the fourth floor was a familiar one. Most of his closer classmates had been in there for group studying. He'd almost made it to her room on the corner when a voice called out.
"Yo, Midoriya! You carrying Uraraka back to her room? That's pretty manly!"
Izuku laughed nervously. Seemed to be his go-to for the day. "Y-yeah, she had a run in with a villain."
Kirishima adjusted his headband. He was dressed causally in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts. "Yeah, Asui told us all about it. Want me to walk you to her door and open it since you got your hands full?"
"O-oh, that would be nice of you, Kirishima-kun."
The other boy accompanied him back to Uraraka's room, then promptly wrested the door upon arrival. "Alright, bro! Whenever Uraraka wakes up, tell her we hope she feels better. Asui said she would be fine, but you know."
Izuku readjusted Uraraka in his arms. Her lips parted just a bit and a satisfied hum fell from them. He felt like he swallowed an apple. "I'll make sure to tell her!" he suddenly was reminded how close he was to her, and his heart thrummed from inside his chest like a rapid-fire battering ram. "W-well, better get her to bed so she'll be comfortable."
"Alright, Midoriya! Don't forget about dinner. It's Yaomomo's turn to cook. So basically Jirou will be making something."
Izuku nodded as Kirishima was already making his way for the staircase. He shouldered his way through the door and closed it behind them with his foot. He made it to the edge of her neatly made bed and set her down gently atop her mattress. Luckily in their tangle of arms he managed to not get touched by all five of her fingers on one hand, so his gravity had stayed intact.
Izuku carefully removed her slippers and set them neatly on the floor.
Pursing his lips, Izuku looked around her room. Her posters of planetary systems adorned the walls not unlike his All Might ones (albeit less in number) and he released a long breath.
Izuku supposed he would be okay. He realized he could be happy being Uraraka's friend, his platonic soulmate, as the lady on the audiobook said. Maybe the yearning, whatever it was, would soften with time.
Before long, maybe he wouldn't even remember ever feeling anything more. He'd forget the dry mouth, the lump in his throat, the heat in his face whenever she was close. His dreams would be of them studying and cheering each other on. No complications. No heartsickness.
Uraraka shifted and Izuku immediately turned his attention to her. "D-Deku-kun?"
Her eyes fluttered open, lashes fanning against her perma-blushed cheeks. He beamed at her—she seemed to have her faculties back, just like Recovery Girl said she would. She was still dazed by grogginess—Izuku couldn't say it wasn't cute on her. He cleared his throat, forcing words out and certain incessant thoughts down.
"Oh, feeling better Uraraka-san? We're back in your room."
She furrowed her brows as if intently concentrating, eyes glassy and unfocused from sleep. "My room? But how did I get back here?"
"I… uh… carried you."
Uraraka flopped back onto her bed, blinking owlishly at him, as if he was a quadratic equation she couldn't quite figure out. "Am I dreaming still? This seems really real, but I swear—"
Then just as soon as it opened, her mouth snapped shut.
Izuku bit his lip. Dreams again. Why did it always come down to dreams for him? "You aren't dreaming, Uraraka-san. You recovered from that quirk. No more waking dreams," his words stilted for a second, remembering her claim that she needed to talk to him in her half-sleep stupor, thinking she was dreaming.
Izuku felt like so much trouble came from those stupid, subconscious pictures.
She shook her head. "No, I'm not talking about that. Honestly, I don't really remember anything after getting hit with the quirk."
Izuku felt relief inflate his chest. She seemed mad with him in Recovery Girl's office—maybe she'd forgotten all about it. "Oh, well, I'm glad you don't remember any of the discomfort or…" he trailed off. "Um, any of that kind of stuff. So, since you're settled in, I should probably get out of your hair."
He'd learn to be happy with things just like they were now. Completely. He had to do it for both their sakes. He had a wonderful friend, a best friend. He'd fought so many villains; a bit of awkwardness should pose no problem.
Izuku could do this.
Uraraka shook her head, sitting up. "No, wait, Deku-kun. Don't go just yet. I need to talk to you about some things."
He'd never heard her tone so cautious and somber. She patted the edge of her bed.
Izuku hesitated a bit, then thought better of it and sat down as instructed. The mattress groaned and sunk under his weight. "Umm. Is everything okay?"
Her chocolate brown eyes drifted away from him, toward the floor as she answered. "Actually, Deku-kun. I don't think so. I feel like you've been avoiding me lately, and it doesn't feel good."
Izuku's right had fisted into her bedspread where she couldn't see it. He supposed it was wrong of him to expect he could just try to move on and do better without answering for the terrible friend he'd been to her lately.
A terrible thought crept into his mind, running on the heels of the optimistic positivity he had been feeling just a couple minutes ago.
Maybe he didn't deserve her friendship, either. A dreaded thought, but one that didn't ring entirely unfair. Instead of being honest with her about his constant dreams of her since he was a child, he'd taken the cowards way out and skirted around everything. And now that it was getting increasingly hard to maintain the façade, he decided to put distance between them, still too weak to face whatever would have happened between them head on.
"Uraraka-san…" he couldn't think of one thing to say in his own defense. There was no excuse. She'd been with him through everything—entrance exams, Stain, training camp and the horrors after, Kamino. She was there to celebrate with him when he passed his provisional licensing exam, to say nothing of her support through their operation against Overhaul and controlling Blackwhip.
"Uraraka-san," he repeated. He could see clearly on her face that she was hurt, and she deserved none of it No wonder she didn't want to acknowledge their soulmate bond; he was the only one getting anything out of their relationship as it was. "I can't even make excuses. I wasn't being a good friend to you."
Uraraka lifted her face to look at him square in the eye. "No, not just that. It's partially my fault, too. We've needed to talk for a long time, but I kept putting it off, and days had turned into months before I knew it. I don't blame you, Deku-kun."
It sounded an awful lot like she was exhausted with the situation too, exhausted with him. Izuku had no doubt she was acknowledging the bond that they both knew they shared, for better or worse. As much as a big part of him wanted to cheer at being absolved, he knew he shouldn't be let off the hook. "You deserve better than that. I don't expect anything out of you, I really don't. We're soulmates, I know you must know that, but that doesn't mean that we—"
Her palms suddenly caught either side of his face, pressed against his cheeks hot with the adrenaline of confrontation pumping through him. She turned his face, forcing him to look square at her, too. "You're a jerk, Deku-kun," she bit out, and Izuku paled at the harsh words, despite preparing himself for her anger.
"Uraraka-san, I know. That's why I'm…"
She pushed his cheeks in harder, chiding him. "You don't get to take the blame for everything. We've known each other for almost a year, and I didn't say anything either. Don't you dare."
Izuku's licked his lips, mulling over the thought. He knew she had to have known, of course. Soulmates were mutual without exception. But hearing it from her lips after so long…
It was just as painful and as euphoric as the fantasies he'd conjured in his dreams since meeting her. "It's okay," he whispered. "I'm not upset, Uraraka-san, honest. Mom told me a long time ago that having a soulmate meant that there was someone special for me. Since we met and my dreams let me know it was you, I've done research. It means many different things than, uh…" a hard swallow to push down the lump in his throat. "j-just different things. You don't have to explain anything. I understand, and I promise I'll always be your best friend."
"No," she said quite firmly, and the disappointment was like a gut punch.
Before he could say a single thing or plead for her to reconsider, she used the leverage she had gripping his face to pull him in, leaning forward herself to catch his lips in what seemed very much like a kiss. He had no experience, but he was fairly certain this was how they went.
Izuku squeaked in a manner that even Kirishima would be hard-pressed to classify as manly against the soft, very warm lips of Ochako Uraraka. Uraraka herself sighed, and not having any clue what to do with his own hands, fisted into the fabric at the knees of his pants. His mind was completely blank; it barely registered the tingles in his toes or that persistent, jackhammering battering ram beneath his chest.
So he did the only thing he could thing of. He kissed her back as well as he could manage with a jellified brain.
Until she broke away first, releasing his face. Izuku couldn't imagine he looked anything besides bewildered.
"I didn't agonize over this conversation for a year to tell you I want to be your friend. We're already best friends and that will never change."
Izuku licked his lips, still unsure if any of this was actually happening or if it was some elaborate prank his soulmate dreams were playing on him. "I just don't want you to feel like you're trapped into anything more just because we're soulmates."
"I spent my childhood excited to meet you," she told him softly. "I'm not trapped. The longer I know you, the happier I am that it's you out of everyone else. I'm so glad we share this connection, so please, don't think for one second I'm unhappy. I want whatever you're willing to give, Deku-kun. Nothing more, nothing less."
There was the lump again, the one that was famous for wringing tears out of him, and he really didn't want to cry on Uraraka after she had given him his first kiss.
"O-oh? And uh, what do you want?"
Uraraka laughed, the sound genuine and bubbly, like a fizzy drink. She pressed her forehead against his, nudging it playfully. "I thought what just happened would have made that clear, but I guess we'll just have to work on your skills of deduction, huh?"
A rolling wave of déjà vu hit him, and Izuku realized that he was living his dream from the night before. The familiar feeling of warmth and security washed over him, like a hot bath. It was stability, the relief of a second chance, a reprieve from the worry of the past year, and a feeling of something building over his whole life coming full circle. The wonder of their world, two people that had two different dreams, but really the same one.
It was completion, and it felt a lot like Ochako Uraraka.