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At first, when Izuku asks Shouto to his room after classes end, he doesn’t really think too much of it. It has become somewhat of a habit after all, their joint study sessions now more of a part of their routine rather than the occasional plea for help in a subject one of them had been struggling with. They were both eager to help each other out in any way they could, though Shouto would be lying if he said the time they spend together for it plays no part in how much he enjoys the increased frequency of their after-school encounters.
Yet, Shouto soon notices the aura of tension about Izuku, having become more acquainted with the subtle tells of his friends’ moods as he learned to be more observant of those around him, not always so focused on his own internal struggles now that he knows how to manage them better. Izuku had been a little more skittish around him since an incident at their work study under Endeavor. It wasn’t their first brush with death by any means, and it most certainly won’t be the last, given their prospective careers, but something about it seemed to shake Izuku a little more than usual.
Shouto couldn’t quite put his finger on it for a while, but the more he thought about it, the more he became convinced it had something to do with how Izuku had clung to Shouto when one of the villains had stabbed a large piece of shrapnel through his torso that was surely meant for his friend. Luckily, it managed to miss any vital organs, but at the time, there was a lot of blood, and though a lot of it is fuzzy, Shouto clearly remembers not knowing if he would actually live to see another day. There’s a vague memory of holding a bloody hand to Izuku’s freckled cheek, of whispering something that came straight from his heart when he had nothing holding him back from saying it.
“I trust you with my life.”
For a while, Shouto wasn’t sure if it had actually happened, if the words had ever made it out of his mouth and it hadn’t all just happened in his head, a fever dream kickstarted by the possibility that he wouldn’t have the chance to let Izuku know it when it felt so important that he did. But with each phantom of guilt flashing across Izuku’s features when Shouto caught him lost in thought, he became surer that not only had Izuku heard him, it had affected him in a way that he hadn’t quite intended.
When he decided to address it, Izuku’s reaction was not what he had expected. Shouto thought he had inadvertently burdened Izuku with a sense of responsibility for his protection, wanting nothing more than to assure him that he never meant to make him feel that way. And yet, Izuku’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink at his words, his eyes clouding with a flood of tears that threatened to spill down his face as he looked away with his teeth sinking into his lower lip.
“It’s not like that, Shouto-kun, don’t worry. I’d do anything to protect you even if you hadn’t said that. You haven’t done or said anything wrong, and I’m fine, I promise. Just trying to sort out some thoughts and feelings, is all.”
That got him thinking that perhaps there was something else hiding under the surface, something that Shouto himself had been carrying for he doesn’t quite know how long. Shouto hadn’t really bothered to put a label on it, but once he acknowledge it, it became hard not to notice it in both himself and Izuku, some reactions that became increasingly familiar the more he saw them happen. They weren’t overtly obvious, just simple gestures or habits that applied only to them and not everyone else around them, certain things that were shared between them and them alone.
And he wonders now, as he looks into Izuku’s bright green eyes, if it’s something they should talk about; if it’s what he means to do later.
Still, he doesn’t pry, sensing the insecurity he is clearly battling with, the uncertainty of his movements as he nods stiffly when Shouto agrees without a single question.
He calmly makes his way down to Izuku’s dorm once he is done changing out of his uniform, knocking gently and waiting for his friend to open the door for him. Izuku peeks out into the hall, staring from one end to the other as if checking if anyone might be spying on them, and Shouto can’t help but mimic the gesture, finding nothing but closed doors in the empty, well-lit corridor. Sucking in a deep breath, Izuku finally steps aside, opening the door further and inviting Shouto inside, voice small and strained as he seems to force the words out.
Out of habit alone, Shouto sits at the edge of Izuku’s bed, bouncing slightly on the soft mattress before leaning back on his hands, fixing his friend with his gaze. Izuku looks to an entirely different corner of the room, his face sitting in an expression that is strangely stuck between shame and determination. The heavy silence makes the atmosphere feel thick, and Shouto fleetingly thinks that it’s no wonder Izuku appears choked.
“Is everything okay?” Shouto eventually asks when the moment stretches on into infinity, Izuku’s posture only growing more closed off as the seconds tick by.
At the sound of his voice, Izuku snaps out of his undoubtedly spiralling thoughts, jerking back to the here and now and blinking rapidly at Shouto before blushing softly. An apology tips from his lips, stuttered, and he fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt, leaning against the door with a sigh as Shouto pulls his legs up to cross them over the bed and waits for him to gather his bearings.
“I have something to tell you, Shouto-kun.” Izuku finally speaks after what feels like a small eternity of nothing but his heartbeats to count the passage of time.
“I’m listening.”
Izuku’s throat bobs as he swallows nervously, pushing away from the door and dragging his feet to the bed, sitting beside Shouto. A few more minutes go by as Izuku measures his words, running a hand through his hair and mussing it up further than it usually is. Shouto remains respectfully quiet, though his eyes never leave Izuku, sitting in an anxious anticipation as he braces himself for whatever Izuku means to say and wonders what he should tell him in return. He had never been great with words, unlike Izuku, and he can’t help but feel like he should be able to verbalise his emotions when this feels like a defining moment in their relationship as a whole, despite nothing having been said yet.
It’s something about how Izuku looks like he is carrying a weight on his shoulders that is threatening to crush him, and it’s all Shouto can do to stop from reaching over and taking his hands in some form of wordless reassurance that he is ready to help him with the unforgiving load. His own chest feels heavy with everything gripping at his soul, thoughts and feelings swarming in ways he had never quite taken notice of before.
Looking at Izuku’s face, Shouto is struck with the realisation that he has never wanted anything more than to hear him confirm that, whatever they may be, their feelings are mutual.
“I’ve been lying to you.” Izuku breathes, and Shouto’s thoughts grind to a halt.
Honestly, he didn’t really know what Izuku was going to reveal, but that wasn’t what he wanted to hear…
“Lying? W-why? About what?”
“Well,” Izuku continues, his entire body trembling slightly. “Not just you, really. Pretty much everyone. And I thought I could keep it up for the rest of my life because it wasn’t even my secret to share, not really, and I had already screwed up once with Kacchan and I really wanted that to be the end of it. But then you said… You said you trusted me with your life after you jumped in and took an attack that probably would have left me way worse off than I even want to imagine and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted to return that trust wholeheartedly, but I couldn’t when… When I haven’t been honest with you…”
Shouto opens his mouth to respond, but much like he expected—though perhaps not for this reason in particular—, he falls short of any actual words. That same guilt that has been plaguing Izuku returns with a vengeance, and Shouto’s own stomach drops at the sight of his features twisting with anguish, tears sticking to his lashes as he stares down at his lap and wrings his hands. Instinctively, he moves to reach for Izuku, yet when his friend snaps his head up once more, he jolts backwards with a choked gasp, afraid that he might somehow make things worse—are they even bad, or is he just panicking?
“To be honest, I’m still not sure I should be telling you this when I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone else, but I can’t—I can’t keep it from you anymore, not after what you said. And I understand if you hate me for not telling you sooner, especially after everything you have done for me. But I feel like you should know regardless.”
“Izuku…” Shouto forces himself to speak past the lump in his throat, his entire body tense with apprehension and confusion and his heart beating frantically in his chest as he tries to make sense of Izuku’s words, think past the haze of unease that comes with his admission. “If you’re keeping something a secret, I’m sure it’s with good reason. I’d never hate you for something like that. I’d never hate you at all. If… if this is something you think you shouldn’t share with me, I don’t want you to feel obligated to do so just because of something I said. I do trust you with everything and anything, and that means I trust you with your own secrets, whatever they may be.”
Izuku seems taken aback by that, eyes widening slightly before a small hiccup tears through him and he slaps a hand over his mouth, looking down to the floor once again as a few tears start trickling down the bridge of his nose and gathering at the tip. He blinks them away, sniffling as he throws his head back and brings his free hand up to wipe the remaining ones against the back of his forearm, apologising for his short-lived outburst of emotion.
“Thank you for saying that… It means a lot to hear it from you…” Izuku adds, taking a few deep breaths before dropping his gaze back to Shouto’s eyes. “But what you said isn’t the reason why I want to tell you. I want you to know because… well, because I want you to know me for who I really am.”
“I already know who you really are.” Shouto says matter-of-factly. “You’re an amazing, kind, strong person, and you’re the greatest hero I’ve ever met.”
A wet laugh shakes Izuku’s shoulders, his lips twitching into a small smile that looks just a tiny bit bitter. “And I’m quirkless.”
Once again, Shouto is rendered speechless for an embarrassingly long time, brows knitting together as he gapes, at an utter loss. “What do you mean you’re quirkless?”
“When you asked me if I had more than one quirk, I didn’t lie when I said it was just an extension of this quirk, but the truth is, that quirk isn’t my own. It was given to me. By All Might.”
Exhaling, Shouto stares off into the distance, processing everything slowly, all of it seeming a little too surreal for him to understand. Yet when he thinks back to their first year, suddenly, so many things start to make perfect sense, the hints he had picked up on not just his imagination and penchant for wild theories, merely a wrong conclusion at the end of the trail he had followed. Though, something in what he said doesn’t sit right with Shouto, sounding just a little too familiar yet coming from the very person who had made him realise the same mistake he seems to be making.
Sometimes people can really be blind to both their own faults and virtues, huh?
“It’s yours now, isn’t it?” Shouto mutters with a small shrug. “If All Might gave it to you, then it belongs to you. It’s your quirk now, Izuku. And… well, given what this means, I understand why you need to keep that a secret. Who knows what would happen if the knowledge of a quirk so powerful being able to be transferred from one person to another got into the wrong hands? But I don’t think you’ve been lying to anyone. You’ve made that quirk your own, haven’t you?”
“Shouto-kun…” Izuku chokes, the tears springing right back to his eyes.
“I didn’t think this was what you wanted to tell me, but I suppose I’m glad you did. Especially when you really didn’t have to.” Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Shouto rubs a hand up to his elbow, gripping it tightly, still feeling like there is more that he should say yet not knowing how.
“I want to trust you with everything too.” Izuku murmurs, voice trembling, and Shouto hums, his chest fluttering at the words and the sincerity behind them as he decides to stop thinking for a second, take a leap of faith and just let his heart do the talking.
“Okay. Then can you trust me with one more thing?”
Pausing for a moment, Izuku shifts slightly, a hint of uncertainty returning to his eyes as he considers the question. When Izuku nods his response, he finally lets himself lean a little closer, reaching over to lace their fingers together and squeezing gently. He hears rather than sees Izuku gasp, his eyes fixed on their intertwined hands as he feels his heart jackhammer against his ribs, knocking the breath out of him.
“Well, to be honest, this is more of a mutual trust thing, I think.” Shouto clarifies, closing his eyes as he brings their hands up to his lips, kissing Izuku’s scarred knuckles for a few moments of pure distress, both exhilarating and devastating. “I don’t know how to properly put it to words,” He admits, dropping their hands back to the space between them. “But I hope you understand what I mean anyway.”
“Is this related to what you were thinking I wanted to talk about?” Not trusting his voice not to crack if he attempts to speak again, Shouto hums lowly, looking back into Izuku’s red-rimmed eyes when he huffs out a little breath that is halfway from amused to embarrassed. “It wasn’t wrong, per se. I couldn’t very well ask you to accept me and my feelings if you didn’t really know the whole truth, now could I?”
That same patch of sunset shines on Izuku’s salt-stained cheeks as he squeezes his hands back, averting his gaze from Shouto’s. If he were to ask himself, Shouto would probably say that there was still a lot more he wanted to tell Izuku, with clearer words, leaving no room for doubt on what he is trying to convey. But for now, he settles for this quiet moment of closeness, Izuku’s confession still swimming around in his brain as he tries to fully grasp it, knowing there is no rush to wrap his head around it. They’ve been there for each other for so long already, after all, and this only means they will continue to do so, together and even closer than before, helping one another carry the burdens that have been thrust upon them.