Chapter Text
There are few things that surprise Izuku. His life has consisted of meeting and serving incredibly interesting people and creatures. That's how it is when you work and live in a central space station.
His mother runs a diner off of the main corridor, one of the two restaurants on the station, which travellers frequent. Izuku loves seeing them, talking with them, and learning about their planets and where they're headed next. It's something Izuku has always wanted to do, but knows he never can. He’s known this his entire life, but still holds onto that dream.
His mother needs him, and he doesn't want to leave her to find a new waiter to take over his job.
With all of these travellers, businessmen, and residents who dine in his mother's restaurant though, there's one that catches his eye, but only for a moment.
A large man, both in height and width, walks into the diner while Izuku is facing away from the register. He turns around to tend to the new customer, but his mother takes over. She gives a knowing expression, and Izuku turns back around to finish wiping the table down, curious.
Izuku continues with his task, until he catches sight of someone he hadn’t noticed in the diner before. It’s a bit of a slow day, usually the diner is packed by this point, but there are only a few people sitting at the dining tables. So, he’s more aware of the people in the diner than he usually is.
Behind the large man, tucked closely to his side, is a boy who looks around Izuku’s age, but that’s not why his attention is drawn to him. It’s his clothing. He’s not wearing any shoes, and flowing, sheer fabric loosely covers his legs. There’s very little on his torso, and what is there is purely for decorative purposes; elegantly crafted cords adorn his chest, his arms bare aside from the same type of loose fabric as by his legs hanging from his arms by cuffs on his wrists, connected up at his shoulders. His hair cascades in loose curls down his back, vibrant ruby red on one side, and white as snow on the other. The red side matches the man standing close to him.
The boy stands out pretty loudly, not that there’s much competition at the moment, but if given a crowd, Izuku would still be distracted.
Izuku assumes he’s a performer or dancer of some sort, but he’s never seen someone dressed like this on the station before, though he doesn’t get to explore the station often. It’s possible he’s just missed it. Still, he can’t make much of a guess as to why there’d be someone dressed like this here, much less in his mother’s diner.
Part of him wants to ask, but Izuku’s mother is busy taking care of the order of the boy and the large man, who Izuku can only assume to be a family member. The two customers sit at the chairs situated nearby the counter to wait for the food, and Izuku decides to go against his instinct. He stays completely silent.
It seems like there’s a tension between them. Izuku doesn’t want to make it any worse, and he turns back to wiping down the table.
Maybe he’ll see the boy another day. If he really is a dancer, then it’s likely Izuku will see him around again. Hopefully. There’s something about the way the man hovers over the boy that gives Izuku an unsettled feeling in his gut, and every part of his body itches to find out more.
---
With an hour left of the diner being open, there’s nobody inside, or even roaming the streets outside, so Izuku’s able to talk to his mother, and make plans for the next day. Mostly about changing up the daily specials and determining what the sales goals for tomorrow are.
“It’s getting slow, so we should do something to really surprise people, don’t you think?” Izuku suggests, his pen tapping against a notepad and leaving specks on the paper. “We could combine two of our existing meals, or add something special to one of our popular ones.”
Izuku’s mother taps her own pen against her chin. “Perhaps. We could also run a deal, like giving a small free dessert with your meal.”
Izuku nods. “Yeah, that would be a good idea too! It’s probably easier than my ideas,” he says, laughing.
“If given more time, we could do yours, but we need this by tomorrow, honey,” Izuku’s mother explains, a gentle smile forming on her lips. “Maybe something is taking people’s attention away. It’s been so unusually slow, even for our neighbors.”
“Mhm, that’s what I was thinking.” Izuku considers the possibilities, and his mind goes back to the boy in the beautiful, flowing outfit. “Do you remember that boy who came in earlier? I think he was with his father.”
Izuku’s mother raises an eyebrow. “Which one?”
“He had on a costume, I think. It was pretty, but anyway, I think he’s a dancer, so maybe he was performing today, and that’s where everyone was. He did look a little bit tired, from what I could tell,” Izuku explains, curiosity piquing. His head is pounding thinking back to the short glimpse he got.
Izuku’s mother nods. “I see, yes, I do remember him now. I think he’s only been here once before, so I think he’s new, and definitely not a traveller.” She rubs at her chin. “It’s possible, but I don’t think we should begin blaming a customer for our slow traffic, Izuku.”
Izuku frowns. “No, no, that’s not what I mean. I’m really interested…” He considers bringing up the bad feeling he got when he watched them, but decides against it. His mother can’t do anything about it either, and it’s not important to what they’re discussing, but what really is his point in bringing it up…he can’t figure it out for himself.
“I don’t understand,” Izuku’s mother responds, rubbing at her temples. “Let’s just focus on what we can do to bring in a few more people tomorrow. Maybe it was just a slow travel day.”
Izuku’s stomach sinks, but he nods. “Right, it’s probably just that.”
The conversation returns to business, and they begin discussing what kinds of desserts they could offer for the promotion, and decide on a choice between a chocolate chip cookie and a bowl of ice cream.
Though the present issue is solved, and Izuku needs to focus on winding down for bed when he returns home, he can’t leave the questions he has about the dancer boy alone.
---
The next day, business goes on as usual, with no sign of the dancer boy. Izuku isn’t expecting to see him, really, but he wishes he knew where he’d be able to see him again.
Izuku’s thankful that their business returns to normal, possibly due to the free dessert promotion they’d planned the night before. It’s likely the appearance of the dancer and their slow business was only a coincidence. He doesn’t bring it up to his mother today, it doesn’t matter for now, and he shouldn’t bother her with his theories and overthinking.
Even so, Izuku’s curious, and the thought weighs on his mind for weeks. Every time he has a day off, he walks the few streets of the station in search for the dancer, but there’s never anyone there. He does the same when on his lunch break and business is slow, but again, he doesn’t find it.
After a month of this, Izuku becomes tired and frustrated, but doesn’t want to give up. Part of him wonders if the dancer is even on the station anymore, and if Izuku completely missed his chance of ever talking to him. Perhaps this constant searching is for nothing.
Though, today Izuku has a good feeling, as he leaves the house in search of the groceries his mother requested. There’s a distant repetitive thump, and a raucous crowd. Izuku wonders if it has something to do with the dancer boy, but he keeps his hopes low. After a month of useless searching, what are the chances?
Izuku’s stomach turns and he switches his attention to the direction of the music; opposite of where he’s supposed to go for the groceries. Thankfully, there’s no rush for him to get home, but he still hopes his mother doesn’t get concerned if he’s late coming home.
When he’s beginning to come up to the currency exchange booth, the music gets louder, and he can see people peeking down the alleyway nearby, also curious to see where the commotion is coming from.
The crowd is bursting from the alleyway nearest Izuku, so he has a difficult time seeing what the fuss is all about. Frustrated, he pushes ahead a few rows deep, but doesn’t manage to get any closer than that. Through the small gaps between the people ahead of him, Izuku’s able to catch a glimpse of long, crimson hair and sheer fabric flowing through the air.
He’s finally found the dancer he’d seen in his diner a month ago. A rush of excitement and accomplishment courses through Izuku, and he rocks on his heels, swaying a bit to the beat of the drum keeping the dancer in time.
He wants to stay and continue to watch, but with how thick the crowd has become and his original objective for leaving his home, he can’t stay. But he takes note of the alley, and the time so he can come back next week.
Hopefully, he’ll be able to come back when there are fewer people so he can watch.
With a lump of disappointment heavy in his chest, Izuku sighs and taps his note into his phone, and pushes his way back through the crowd to get back to the main road. He continues on with his shopping trip, but keeps the image of the dancer at the back of his mind. He looks forward to next week, when he can try again.
---
The week passes by uneventfully. Izuku continues with his work at the diner as normal. He and his mother had determined that the slow day when Izuku saw the dancer the first time was just a fluke. Due to that, Izuku hasn’t felt the need to discuss the dancer boy anymore with his mother. He so desperately wants to share his thoughts with someone, but keeps it to himself.
Throughout the days leading up to Saturday, on which Izuku plans to go back to the alleyway, he comes up with and runs through what he’ll say if he’s able to talk to the dancer. He thinks his intentions are good, but it may come off as strange and possibly even creepy when describing it to a stranger, as the dancer is. Izuku has to admit that sometimes his observation skills can come off as a bit odd to other people, and admitting to that being the reason he’s talking to a stranger may not be a good first impression.
There’s no sense in scaring the dancer when Izuku does finally get to meet him. He’ll just have to work on it more.
---
Saturday morning comes, and Izuku is equally as excited as he is nervous about his plan. He waits anxiously in the kitchen for his mother to wake up.
He knows in the back of his mind that there’s nothing to be truly nervous about, especially because he’s been rehearsing what he’ll say over and over again for almost an entire week. He finally gave up on formulating the perfect introduction speech, but has a good idea of the points he wants to hit when he introduces himself. Even so, he can’t shake the twisting in his stomach as he pictures himself standing in front of the dancer and taking all of that attention for himself. Maybe that’ll be what happens today, but he can’t be completely sure at the same time, so he has to prepare for either outcome. Thoughts and nerves swirl around throughout his body as he thinks about what could happen later today. Everything feels like a clouded mess in his head.
When his mother wakes up and comes into the kitchen where Izuku is waiting, his coffee is cold and he swirls it in the mug, watching as the coffee and cream separate a bit through each swirl. It’s enough to distract him from the racing thoughts and butterflies in the pit of his stomach for a little bit.
It’s his day off, so his mother asks questions about why he’s awake and out in the kitchen already. He has to explain what he has planned, despite the concerned expression on his mother’s face. She sighs a bit as she speaks to him, warning him of talking to a stranger like this, especially a performer who may be famous or just popular. How people may become jealous of him, how he shouldn’t tell the dancer too much information off the bat, and so on. She seems to be worried more than upset with him, which is comforting to his raging emotions. He’s able to finish his breakfast and get ready to leave with a partially settled mind.
---
As Izuku leaves his home, much earlier than the last time he’d ventured out onto the main road, the crowds are much less, though still heavier than during the week, since it’s a weekend. When he makes it down to the glowing currency exchange booth, where he’d turned the corner before to find the crowd of people spilling out of the alleyway to watch the performance, there’s nobody there.
He’s about to give up and just walk past to go somewhere else, but there’s someone standing in the alleyway that catches his eye, so he stops to observe.
It’s the dancer boy and the large man, fiddling with a speaker and shouting between each other. The boy’s lower half is clothed with a similarly intricate costume as he was before, but he’s wearing a jacket over his torso, with the hood pulled over his head, like he’s hiding from anyone who happens to see him.
Izuku considers talking to them, but by their body language, he figures it’s not a good idea to bother with it.
As he’s walking past the alley entrance, there’s a sign that informs him the performance will be beginning in an hour. He decides to walk around the perimeter of the station as he’s waiting. It’s not often he gets to explore, not that there’s much to explore, but wares and booths change often, and there’s a constant flow of new people walking through the station, whether they’re travellers, merchants, or goods transporters. There’s always traffic, and Izuku never really gets to experience that, when he’s cooped up in the diner for most of his waking hours. And on his days off, he usually spends them running errands for his mother, or working on a project in his room.
The shop across the alley entrance from the currency exchange booth sells goods native to various planets across the galaxy, all ranging in material and use, though most are raw goods like animal pelts, rocks, gems, and preserved plants. Izuku inspects them for a moment. A sense of longing begins to overtake him. He wishes he could experience the home of all of these things. He does love his home on the station, but things become mundane over time, and he reached that point long ago.
Izuku leaves the booth in hopes of finding something else that will lift his spirits and keep his mind off the things he can’t have.
He wanders off toward the other diner on the station, located right outside one of the docking ports. For some time, his mother saw the other diner as competition, but after Izuku met the owner’s daughter in school, they quickly became friends, and now they sometimes help each other coming up with new recipes. It’s been a while since Izuku has visited.
Thankfully, it seems like the diner isn’t too busy, and Izuku can spot her wiping down the counter of the baked goods display.
“Hey, Uraraka-san?” Izuku says once he’s within earshot.
She lifts her head up and a surprised grin forms on her lips. “Oh, Deku-kun! How are you?” Uraraka mutters something to her mother who’s standing nearby the display, then pushes the swinging door leading to the dining room to meet Izuku where he’s standing. “It’s been a while, huh?”
Izuku laughs nervously and nods. “Yeah, it has been, sorry about that.” He’s pulled into a tight squeeze of a hug, and all the nerves that have built up since he woke up in the morning melt away under the kindness of her hold. “I can’t stay here for long.” Izuku’s stomach twists again, thinking about explaining why he’s here in the first place.
“What brings you here then?” Uraraka asks, pulling herself out of the embrace. She’s smiling, and Izuku’s surprised she’s not jumping with how much energy she seems to have right now.
Izuku falters and scratches at his neck. “I was afraid you’d ask that. It’s a bit of a strange reason. Can we sit down for a moment?”
“Oh, sure, of course.” Uraraka pulls out a chair for him at the table nearest to them, and then sits down in the chair on the opposite side of the table. “Wait, did you want anything to drink? I forgot to ask.”
“It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.”
Uraraka nods, then settles herself into her seat. “Alright, then, what is it?”
“It’s going to sound weird and kind of stalkerish probably, but I promise that’s not what I’m doing. My mother has been acting strange about it whenever I bring it up, so she probably thinks it’s weird. Anyway, you might’ve noticed there’s a dance performance that happens sometimes in the alley across the way from here. I think it’s always the same person, but I haven’t paid enough attention to it yet. But that’s not really the point.” He pauses and shakes his head, trying to regain his focus. “The dancer came to my diner one day about a month ago, and something seemed really off about him. I could really tell something was wrong, but I didn’t think it was my place to say anything since he was a customer. I didn’t even know there was a dancer on the station until then either, so I ended up finding where he was performing last weekend, but the crowd was so big, I couldn’t see anything. I’m going to try to get there early this time, so I can actually watch. I don’t...really have a good explanation for why I want to see it so badly, but I just feel like I need to do something to help.” It feels like he hasn’t breathed in minutes by the time he’s finished explaining, so Izuku sucks in a breath of air.
Uraraka has her hands folded on the table, and she’s leaning forward. “I see...that’s a lot to take in, so give me a moment.” It’s clear she’s really trying to process the information as her eyebrows draw together in thought. “I know what you’re talking about, I’ve walked by when there was a big crowd before. I don’t think I’ve ever seen who it is you’re talking about, though. What makes you think he needs help?”
Izuku bites his cheek. “He just seems...sad I guess. Every time I’ve seen him so far he’s been with this man who towers over him. I’m assuming it’s his father, and I don’t think they have a good relationship. When I walked by earlier, it looked like they were arguing about something.” Izuku hums and shakes his head. “It probably sounds really rude to think that about someone I don’t know, but I can’t help but feel like there’s something incredibly off about this situation.”
“I understand,” Uraraka says, nodding. She takes a breath in. “What are you planning to do, then?”
“Right now, I just want to watch his performance today. If I’m able to, I’d like to stay until the end to see if I can talk to him, even if it’s just asking his name and when he’s performing next, I don’t want to come across strange to him and scare him away.” Izuku twists his face and rubs his fists against his face. “God, even then it sounds really weird huh.”
Uraraka shakes her head. “No, no, I think that’s a good start! I trust that you know what you’re doing. And it really does seem like you care a lot about this, whatever this is.”
Izuku’s throat seems to close up on him before he can respond. There’s no way for him to tell if anything he’s doing will work or will be helpful in any way. “Yeah. I’ll let you know what happens when I’m able to talk to him.” Silence settles between them for a moment, and Izuku checks his phone. “I should go now. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Sure thing, good luck!” Uraraka says, jumping from her seat and giving him a hug before he leaves.
It gives him a sense of hope that things will work out okay as he leaves the diner.
---
This time when Izuku rounds the corner to the alleyway, there are only a few people in the watching area. There’s a rope in front of the stage, speakers, and other equipment to keep people away from the expensive setup. Izuku wonders if every performance is as crowded as that last one was. It makes it impossible for anyone to be able to walk down the alley, since the dancer is situated in a way where one end of the alley is completely cut off, and the other end is where the audience crowds to catch a glance. It seems like a bit of a safety issue to Izuku.
Something Izuku notes is the sign hanging on the base of the stage, though there’s really not much stage to hang it from. The sign is just large enough to display the name of the shop that Izuku passed on his way into the alleyway. Maybe the shop is paying the dancer? He’s not sure what the advertisement would be for otherwise, but he doesn’t have much time to consider it, because then the music starts up, and the small crowd that has started to form around Izuku turns their attention to the stage.
Nobody is on it yet, but the large man is standing behind the speaker that’s closest to the stage. Then the dancer appears from behind another speaker and takes his place in the middle of the stage. Immediately, the crowd goes silent, and the only noise filling the alleyway is the music from the speakers.
When the dancer begins moving, more people crowd around the stage from the main road and begin bumping into Izuku, trying to push their way ahead of him in the crowd. But he won’t be moving from his spot, determined to watch the entire performance without getting knocked out of the way.
The crowd settles, and Izuku’s able to focus all of his attention on the dancer in front of him, moving like a well-oiled machine. A chill courses through Izuku’s spine and body shivers as he follows the movements with his eyes. At the same time, Izuku’s stomach twists and flops in a way he hasn’t experienced before. The intricacy and beauty of what’s happening in front of him is becoming too much, and he completely forgets about why he’s here.
He allows himself to become enamoured with the dancer in front of him, someone he’s never said a word to and yet feels like he knows so much about. The swiftness of his transitions and maintenance with the beat of the music that’s blasting far too close to Izuku’s ears is enough for Izuku to forget about the world around him and train his focus on every movement.
It’s when someone runs into him from the back that he’s knocked out of focus and he remembers where he is.
There are people chatting around him, commenting on how amazing the dancer is and how mesmerizing his performance is. Though Izuku’s not in the conversations, he nods along with their comments.
Izuku’s certain that if there was no end to this, he’d still never leave. Like the dancer is casting a spell on him, trapping him here forever, and he doesn’t even mind.
The dancer’s in a different costume than he was when Izuku first saw him in the diner. It’s in a similar style as the previous one, but this one is dyed with a deep, earthy green that complements the brown brick of the alley walls perfectly. With the fabric swishing and flying around, it looks like the dancer belongs here.
But there’s a point where the dancer’s facing forward for a while in the performance, and Izuku catches a glimpse of the pain he’d seen in the diner. And for the rest of the time Izuku watches, he pays closer attention to the expressions on the dancer’s face.
Through every song, the dancer looks miserable, though his beauty is unwavering.
The performance lasts a few hours, and people file in and out of the crowd over the course of it. By the end, nobody who was there at the beginning are still there, and the crowd’s shrunk significantly. Only Izuku and about ten other people are still standing in the crowd as the dancer takes a bow, and leaves the stage, disappearing behind the speaker as he was hiding behind before the performance began.
The last of the crowd leaves, and Izuku checks his phone. He’s been standing in relatively the same spot for three hours, and he needs to head home for dinner soon. But before he leaves, there’s one thing he still needs to do, and his heart starts pounding.
He’s been rehearsing this in his head for an entire week, but none of that could truly prepare him for the real thing. He can’t even see the dancer currently, but knowing that he’s there, standing behind the speaker Izuku is boring his eyes into, is making Izuku tremble with nerves.
Izuku sends a message to Uraraka to ask for encouragement, and slowly moves out of the middle of the alley to stand against the wall opposing the stage. Shortly after, his phone pings with a new message, and he smiles at Uraraka’s words.
You’ve got this! He’ll be so happy to talk to you, just like I am.
Sent at 4:03 pm
He leans his head back against the brick wall, his hair getting caught in the pores, and takes a deep breath in. With his eyes closed, he can hear the faraway noises of the yelling merchants, but also the bickering of the dancer and who Izuku is assuming is his father.
It’s in his best interest to wait until the conversation calms down, since he can’t predict what kind of response the dancer or his father will have to his questions. Preferably, Izuku would wait until his father is gone.
Some time passes, and Izuku is trying hard not to eavesdrop. It’s difficult when he’s so curious, but he tries to distract himself with a game on his phone. He’s gotten strange looks from people using the alley as a way to get from one main road to the next, and a few even asked if he works for the dancer, but he has to deny them and explain he’s just relaxing here.
It’s been half an hour since the performance ended when quiet settles in the area next to the stage, and Izuku cautiously slips his phone back into his pocket, making his way to the left side of the stage. The large man steps out from behind the speaker and stops once he’s spotted Izuku.
“Oh, hello sir,” he greets, hiding the tremble in his voice unsuccessfully.
“Who are you?” the man asks, narrowing his eyes. “What do you want?”
Izuku offers a lopsided smile and folds his hands in front of him. “Um, I just wanted to tell him I liked the performance.”
“Have you been here this whole time?” the man asks, disregarding what Izuku just said.
“No, not at all, I went somewhere else and came back this way since it’s on my way home, and I happened to see everything still here. Is he too busy right now? I can come back--”
Another head appears from behind the speaker. It’s the dancer, who frowns when he sees the large man speaking to Izuku. “What’s going on?”
The words that had been in the front of Izuku’s mind while he was waiting vanished instantly. He knew the dancer was beautiful, even just seeing him from a distance, but up close, and with the sheen of sweat on his forehead, bangs pulled back with a clip, Izuku’s throat seizes up. Even if he could think of the words, he wouldn’t be able to say them. So he settles for smiling and folding his hands behind his back, silently praying that the man will explain for him.
Instead, all that the man does is twist his face and orders, “It’s none of your concern, Shouto. Continue getting ready.”
Izuku watches the dancer, Shouto, completely ignore what he was just told, and steps out from behind the speaker. He has the unzipped hoodie from before on, and in addition to the clip in his bangs, he’s pulled back his intricately braided hair back into a ponytail. Izuku’s not sure how he looks even more attractive than he did earlier.
The man grinds his teeth but Shouto interrupts him before he can say anything. “No, I’d like to hear what he has to say, actually.” Shouto’s eyes land on Izuku and his stomach flips. In a few seconds, Shouto’s standing a few feet away from Izuku despite the grunts and frustration from the large man. “If you could leave for just a few minutes, that’d be great,” Shouto says in the direction of the other man, though Izuku can hear a waver in his tone, like he’s trying to be confident but it’s not genuine.
It’s clear the other man isn’t having it, as his grumbling grows louder, but turns away from them and says, “We’ll be speaking about this later,” as he leaves the alley.
Izuku watches him from the corner of his eye, and the dancer sighs heavily. “There’s another person walking through, so he didn’t make a scene.” His teeth are gritted and his brow is drawn as he takes a step back from Izuku and rubs at his eyes with the back of his hands. “What was it you wanted to tell me, though? I don’t recognize you.” His mismatched eyes squint as he looks Izuku up and down.
“Oh, right.” Izuku has to remind himself why he’s here in the first place, the interaction and the close presence of Shouto having muddled his brain. “I saw you come into my mother’s diner about a month ago, and I’ve been trying to watch you perform since. I stayed for the entire thing today, and it was really incredible. But…” Izuku pauses to watch the way Shouto’s face twists at the hesitation. He’s not sure if he should say it or not. It might seem creepy and invasive, but his gut still tells him that it’s the right thing. “You seem so sad. And I have a feeling it’s that man’s fault.” Izuku’s voice lowers to a whisper by the end of the sentence.
Shouto crosses his arms. “Let’s...move somewhere else, follow me.”
“Oh, okay.” Izuku’s stomach churns.
Shouto takes him a couple alleys down, where there are a few benches they can sit on. “I just don’t want him to hear. This needs to be quick. Why do you think that?”
There’s urgency in Shouto’s voice. So Izuku takes in a deep breath. “When you came into our diner, you seemed to hide behind him, and you seemed like you didn’t want to be there. And then today, when I watched you, I could tell you knew every move perfectly, but your expression didn’t reflect that confidence. It seemed like you wanted to leave. And now, I kind of heard that you were arguing with each other before he came out to talk to me.” Shouto isn’t looking at him anymore. “It probably sounds crazy coming from a stranger, right? I don’t blame you if you want to leave or ban me from ever coming near you, but I appreciate you listening to me anyway.”
There’s silence for a moment too long, and Izuku’s sure that he’s made an immediate enemy. His heartbeat picks up and he almost stands up from the bench, but Shouto speaks up again.
“You’re really smart. What’s your name?”
“Oh. Midoriya Izuku.” A wave of relief washes over him. “I heard him call you Shouto. Is that what I should call you as well?”
“I’m okay with that. That was my father, I’m sure you could figure that out, with how much I look like him, so I don’t care about formality.” Shouto offers a pained smile. “Anyway, you’re right. But why do you care?”
Izuku shrugs. “I just like helping people, and you seemed like you needed help. But I’m sure you’re busy, and probably don’t have time for me to ‘help’ you.” Though Shouto is responding positively to what Izuku is saying, he’s still not confident in his intentions.
“I’m interested. If you can do anything about how miserable I am I’m all ears. If you can’t, then that’s fine too, I’m thankful you have any interest in me as a person at all. But I really should go now. I’m going to get in trouble for leaving,” Shouto explains in a rush. “Are you free tomorrow at all?”
“I’ll be working, what time?”
“Probably before you get off...I have to practice every evening. When is your next long break?”
“I have Tuesday off, would that work?” Izuku’s throat is beginning to choke up from how overwhelmed he is.
“In the afternoon, yes. Can you meet me here?”
Izuku nods, smiling. “Yeah, I can do that. Oh, do you want my number?”
Shouto stares at Izuku for a moment, but nods slowly. “I left my phone so how about I give you mine?”
“Perfect!”
When Shouto’s typed in a contact into Izuku’s phone, they stand up, and Shouto leaves, so Izuku doesn’t get caught in Shouto’s father’s tirade. It hurts Izuku’s heart to know that Shouto has to deal with this, but with Shouto’s number in his phone and a promise to meet again, his hopes are lifted. Maybe he really can do something about it, and maybe his extreme curiosity will do good for once.