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Unsurprisingly, planning to overthrow the reigning monarch is tiring. Shouto has been listening to everyone else in the room argue amongst themselves about possible plans- including simply showing up and beating King Enji in the face, which isn’t quite as simple as Katsuki seems to believe it to be- and his long-since-formed headache is slowly getting worse. He pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping to relieve some of the pressure, and slowly exhales.
“Okay,” Eijirou says, leaning forward and placing his hands flat on the table, “I’ve got an idea. What if we get into the throne room, I turn into a dragon, and then roast him. Pros: it’s very manly and easy to do.”
“Cons: there’s no way for you to get into the palace since they’ve recently tightened security,” Izuku tells him, his voice somehow less grating on Shouto’s mind than all the others.
“Yeah, and whose fault is that, Deku?” Katsuki asks.
“We’ve been over this, Kacchan. I cannot control what other rebels do, including whether or not they decide to launch an attack.”
“Sounds pretty fucking convenient.”
He can’t take this anymore. If Shouto stays in this room for one more minute, he’s going to explode. “Enough,” he says, getting everyone’s attention, “I’m calling a five minute break. Come back with fresh ideas and more patience.”
With that, he stands from the table and leaves the one-room home. It’s much too small for all the people it’s currently holding, which is probably part of the problem. As nice as it was of Ochako’s family to lend their home for the day, it’s far too different from the spacious palaces in which Shouto is used to spending time.
And maybe that’s spoiled of him to be thinking but that doesn’t make it any less true.
He takes a deep breath once he’s outside, walks over to the small stream a few feet away, and sits on the bank. The fresh air is already helping some with his shortened temper but his headache is refusing to go away.
“You okay?”
Shouto glances up at Izuku, the sun outlining his hair in a golden light. “I’ve been worse,” he replies, gesturing for the other to take a seat next to him. Their arms brush when he does and he tries not to think about it too much.
“Is it the arguing or the fact that we’re talking about your dad?” Izuku asks.
“The arguing, mostly. You know I don’t care about my father.”
“I know that isn’t entirely true.”
He’s right. Shouto doesn’t like that he is, though. If he had his way, that tiny part of him that whispers about family bonds and the way his father used to act before he’d been crowned King wouldn’t exist. But it does.
“Let’s talk about something else.”
Izuku hums softly, leaning close enough that their arms press together. His warmth is all Shouto can think about. It’s so different from the heat of magic that courses through the left side of his body; it feels more natural, somehow softer.
“I’m not really sure what else there is to talk about. This is kind of the only thing that’s been on my mind lately,” Izuku admits.
It’s as clear an opening as Shouto has seen from the other- one that he’ll happily take advantage of if it means a distraction. He looks over at Izuku and leans a little closer, waiting for green eyes to meet his own before saying, “I could give you something else to think about.”
The blush that grows out from Izuku’s cheeks, reaching up to his ears and down his neck, is all the reward Shouto needs. He’s enjoyed flustering Izuku since the day they met when Izuku quite literally ran into him because he was too distracted by his own thoughts to watch where he was going. He’d interrupted a seemingly endless stream of apologies by taking Izuku’s hand, kissing the back of it, and telling him to think nothing of it before walking away with the image of a flustered stranger fresh in his mind.
Now, though, Izuku doesn’t trip over his words the way he did then. Instead, he ducks his head in an attempt to hide the blush, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them close. “Sometimes I think you don’t know how that sounds,” he mumbles.
“I’m perfectly aware of how it sounds.”
“Then why do you have to say it like that?”
“Because it’s fun to fluster you.”
He gets a pout in response to that. "C'mon, Shou, that's just mean."
Shouto hums softly in response and moves closer, waiting for Izuku to look back at him before flashing a tiny smile. "Would you kiss me?" he asks.
"Right now? Anyone could see us, though."
Ah, right. Shouto doesn't entirely understand Izuku's insistence that they keep their relationship private. It's not as though their friends are oblivious to their feelings for each other. In fact, it was their friends that forced them to confess in the first place. "Anyone here already knows we like each other. I fail to see the issue."
"Well, yeah, but what if a stranger walks by and sees us?"
Shouto is silent for a moment before looking around them. The road is a few yards away, blocked from view by a fence and bushes. There's no easy way to be seen sitting by the water. Not to mention, nobody else even came down to the stream. They all stayed near the house. There's really no way a stranger would see them, and there's an even smaller chance any of their friends would. He looks back to see that Izuku seems to have reached the same realization.
"What's the real problem, Izuku? You always seem nervous to do anything if someone might see. Are you ashamed of me?" He'd understand if the answer was yes. Shouto is the son of a horrible king, his initially cold demeanor leading most people to believe he's just like his father.
The question, though, makes Izuku straighten up and look at him. He looks confused for a moment, but when it clears, he seems more determined than anything else. Instead of speaking, Izuku takes Shouto’s hand in his own and laces their fingers together. His gaze is steady, almost overwhelming, as he says, “I could never be ashamed of you, Shouto.”
If his gaze nearly overwhelmed Shouto, Izuku’s words do so without a doubt. He can feel the flames of his magic burning just under his skin, and it takes every ounce of control that he has to keep them in check. He forgets about his right side, though, and the ice triumphs where the fire faced defeat, a thin layer of frost spreading down his arm.
He regrets forgetting when he sees Izuku grimace at the sudden cold of his hand. Shouto starts to pull away, an apology already falling from his lips, but his hand is only gripped tighter. Izuku flashes him a reassuring smile and it’s somehow enough for Shouto to get himself under control, pulling the frost back and forcing the ice to settle around his bones since it’s so desperate for something to cling to.
To avoid addressing the lapse in his control, Shouto asks, “Then what is it?”
“I guess….I don’t want you to feel stuck with me once this is all over.”
“What?”
Izuku looks away, sighing softly as he squeezes Shouto’s hand. He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, his eyes lifting to the clouds as he thinks. “You’re going to take the throne. I know I’m not exactly court material. When all is said and done, I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay with me in the future just because we have feelings for each other right now.”
Maybe it’s foolish to think, but Shouto can’t imagine his feelings for Izuku ever fading. They’re all-consuming, wholly new to him, almost terrifying, if he’s being honest. And just the thought of them leaving is wrong. His whole body rebels against the notion, his stomach churning, his heart quickening slightly, his muscles tensing as though ready to run after the fleeing emotions. He doesn’t say any of this, of course. No, that would require him to remember how to be eloquent, and obviously that’s too much to ask of himself.
“That’s stupid.”
As expected, he regrets the words the moment they’re spoken. But there’s nothing he can do now beyond keep a straight face and wait for Izuku’s reaction.
“I kind of figured I was being considerate,” Izuku finally says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as the corners of his lips sink into a frown.
“How is martyring yourself like that being considerate?”
“When did you become so aware of things like that?”
“Izuku.”
He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he looks at Shouto again. “I want you to be happy, Shou. I don’t want to cause you trouble when you’ve taken the throne. You’ll be expected to marry another royal, I bet, and I’m definitely not one.”
“You’re All Might’s heir. That’s good enough. It doesn’t matter, though.”
“Of course, it does.”
“But I’m not on the throne, yet. Right now, I’m sitting next to you.”
“You have to think about the future, though!”
Shouto doesn’t know how to get it through Izuku’s head that he doesn’t care very much about the future right now. “Fine. Then I’ll think about a future where we’re together. How could any other be possible?”
“Nothing is forever, Shou.”
“We are. Izuku, we’ve fought together, I’ve patched up your wounds and you….you’ve seen me at my lowest point and didn’t turn away from me. You saved me from myself and told me your deepest fears within seconds of each other. If I was told to choose between you and the throne, I would choose you. If you asked me to run away together right now, I would say yes without question. You and I are connected, Izuku, and I wouldn’t trade that connection for anything in the world, because nothing could ever hope to compare to you.”
It’s probably the clearest Shouto has ever been about his feelings. And it’s terrifying. The words wouldn’t stop once he started. He feels the same way he did when Izuku found him at rock bottom: bracing himself for the sting of rejection while trying to reconcile with the frustratingly stubborn spark of hope that still resides in his chest.
But this is different. Shouto isn’t chained to a wall right now, isn’t in the middle of an inferno of his own making because he succumbed to the magic that rages through him, isn’t lost in his mind and trembling under the weight of expectations and his father’s presence. Back then, Izuku had chosen to walk into that room, to endanger himself to save Shouto from something he never wanted anyone to see.
This time, Shouto is letting him in willingly.
He thinks- hopes- Izuku understands this when he sees his green eyes soften. The frown that has no place on his lips is replaced by a slight smile. “Do you really think we’re connected?” he asks after a moment.
“Don’t you?”
Izuku slowly exhales and nods. “I do.”
“Then I swear on whatever tethers us to each other that we will be together no matter what. Whether we fail or succeed, we’ll do it together.”
“Together,” Izuku agrees.
Shouto feels lighter now, as though a weight has been lifted from his chest. As much as he’d like to stay there with Izuku leaning into him, he can hear Ochako calling for them to get back inside so the meeting can continue. He sighs, tempted to demand five more minutes only for Izuku to stand and pull him to his feet.
“You still owe me a kiss,” he says.
Izuku falters, nearly tripping over himself if not for Shouto grabbing his arms to steady him. “Really? You still want one?” he asks.
“I’d never say no to a kiss from you, if you’re willing to give me one.”
He waits patiently as Izuku glances at the house. Ochako is still waiting for them, her hands on her hips as she holds the door open. She isn’t paying much attention to them, though, instead looking inside and smiling at someone. Izuku looks back at Shouto and flashes a shaky smile before pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips.
“Happy now?” he asks as he pulls away.
Shouto hums and kisses Izuku back, his hands cupping soft cheeks and his fingers brushing against green hair. He pulls away a few seconds later and takes in the slightly dazed expression Izuku has as he tries to catch up with what happened. It pulls a smile from him and he replies, “Yes, I’m happy now.”
Izuku grips his lunch tray a little tighter as he looks between the two tables open to him. At one, Ochako and Tenya are having an incredibly passionate discussion while Tsuyu looks at him expectantly. At the other, Shouto is sitting by himself, a book open next to him and seemingly unaware of the inner turmoil Izuku is suffering.
But he knows that’s not the truth.
He recognizes subtle body cues that he shouldn’t after knowing Shouto for such a short time. The other boy’s shoulders are tense, his head is raised slightly as though he’s watching Izuku from the corner of his eyes, and he occasionally taps a finger against the table. Izuku wonders if he knows that’s a habit he picked up from sitting on a throne with nothing else to do when he got impatient and bored.
In the end, it isn’t that hard of a choice to make. Izuku smiles at Tsuyu before walking over to Shouto’s table and sitting down across from him. Neither of them say a word as he picks up his chopsticks and starts eating. But it isn’t long before Izuku feels something hesitantly brush against his ankle.
He hides the slight smile he gets as he hooks his ankle on Shouto’s without thinking. The action is so comfortingly familiar, memories of countless meals spent in peaceful silence with their ankles acting as a reassurance to both of the other’s presence. If Izuku thinks hard enough, he could probably figure out when it started, could pull out the specific memory covered in the fuzzy haze of dreams. But he’d rather not think about that, would rather let himself enjoy this moment without getting lost in a spiral of thoughts and emotions from a life he still isn’t entirely sure he lived.
The seat next to him drags loudly on the floor as it’s pulled out, causing Izuku to jump and pull his leg away. He sits straighter in his seat, trying to not feel bad about the slightly annoyed expression on Shouto’s face. Instead, he looks over at Tenya and flashes a slight smile as Ochako and Tsuyu sit on either side of Shouto. “I thought you guys were at the other table,” he says.
“We were,” Ochako says, “but then we figured we’d eat with you two. It didn’t seem like you were doing much talking anyway.”
“Our silence wasn’t an invitation,” Shouto replies, his words short and Izuku has to stop himself from scolding the other for coming across as rude.
His words don’t seem to have much of an effect on Ochako, though, as she simply waves them off and smiles at Izuku. “Anyway, we were thinking of heading to the mall after school tomorrow. You guys wanna tag along?” she asks.
Instinctively, Izuku meets Shouto’s eyes and, in the span of a few seconds, the two come to a decision without trading a single word. It’s a little scary but he doesn’t dwell on that fact. Instead, he nods and says, “Yeah, it sounds like fun.”
“Are you sure you and Todoroki don’t already know each other, Midoriya? You two seem oddly close,” Tsuyu says, looking between the two of them with a thoughtful expression. “You have the same sort of ease around each other that my parents have.”
Before Izuku can try to think of a response, Shouto looks up from his tray and replies, “Put simply, Izuku and I share a connection that defies the bounds of reality itself, tethering us to each other no matter the place and time. I could not escape his pull, not that I’d want to.” His voice sounding oddly regal in a way that makes Izuku sit up a little straighter in his chair.
The table is absolutely silent and Izuku wracks his brain for why that sounds so familiar as their friends get worried looks. When he finally realizes, he can’t help a snort that he tries to cover up. “You got that from a book!” he says, earning a slight smile from Shouto.
“Yes.”
“Ah! It was a joke,” Tenya says, his shoulders relaxing just slightly at the realization.
“Oh, that makes a lot more sense,” Ochako says, shaking her head at the two of them as she looks down at her tray.
The only one who doesn’t seem entirely convinced is Tsuyu. She still looks thoughtful, her eyes narrowed slightly as she studies the two of them. After a few moments, though, she apparently decides to drop the topic for now.
Lunch continues smoothly after that, the conversation naturally flowing back to the mall trip and what stores each of them plan to visit. In the middle of Tenya explaining the need to buy more sneakers, Izuku feels Shouto’s foot nudge against his own. It’s barely a tap, really, but he can still read the hesitant question in the simple movement.
Izuku glances up at Shouto, watching him as he slides his foot forward and hooks their ankles together again. He seems to lose some of the tension in his shoulders, the change once again far too subtle for anyone else to notice. At least that, being able to see the subtle shifts in Shouto’s moods and know what they mean, is something undeniably good that came from this. He can’t really explain why he’s relieved to have this knowledge, though, just that he is.
When the bell rings to signal the end of lunch, Shouto doesn’t pull his ankle away. Instead, he presses into Izuku’s even as he slowly starts to gather his trash onto his tray. It’s good timing, considering he wanted to talk privately anyway.
“Okay, I guess we’ll see you in the classroom. Don’t be late,” Ochako says as she stands from the table. She flashes a knowing smile as she and Tsuyu drag Tenya away from the table before he can get too far in his lecture on the importance of timeliness to hero work. Izuku isn’t entirely sure he wants to know what she thinks they’re going to do but he’s still grateful for the chance to be alone with Shouto.
“It wasn’t just a book,” Shouto says.
Izuku pauses and looks back. The other finally pulls away, leaving his ankle feeling oddly lonely as they both stand. “What wasn’t?”
“What I said to Asui. It wasn’t just a book.”
Oh. He knows. Of course, he knows. The moment Shouto had spoken of connections, Izuku’s mind had immediately offered him a memory of them sitting by a stream of water, the sun sparkling on the surface and neither of them paying any attention to it. He remembers being nervous but being so sure of himself. Though, he didn’t get so lost in the memory as to remember what, exactly, he was sure about.
“You said it to me. Do you really still believe it?”
“Don’t you?” Shouto asks, an amused glint in his eyes as he looks at Izuku.
Izuku is tempted to say that it’s hard not to believe in a connection between them. If he does, he knows he’ll end up theorizing about their situation all over again. Shouto has been miraculously patient with him every time he does, which has been almost daily ever since Eraserhead’s apprehension test, and merely nods along while occasionally contributing a thought.
But, as tempting as it is, Izuku doesn’t really get the chance. Instead, he finds himself smiling fondly and saying, “I do.”
An easy silence settles over them as they leave the cafeteria. Though Izuku would be perfectly content with allowing the silence to stay, he can’t help but to ask, “Are you sure you can go to the mall with us?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You know, your father might be….an issue. I don’t want you to get in trouble with him,” he explains, looking up at Shouto.
He feels bad when he sees the conflicted expression, the way his grey and blue eyes darken just slightly when they’d been light and seemingly care-free just seconds ago. Izuku wouldn’t take back the question, not when he needs to make sure Shouto will be okay, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling a little bad about asking in the first place.
A moment passes and Shouto sighs, avoiding Izuku’s eyes. “It’s not something you should worry about. I can handle my father,” he finally says.
“Can you, though? I mean, I know things are probably different here but your father hasn’t changed that much from what I understand. If you going with us could result in you getting hurt in some way, then I think you should stay home. Or, well, maybe we could find something else to do that will keep you out of the house but won’t get you in trouble.”
“I wouldn’t have much of a life if I spent all my time trying to keep my father happy.”
Izuku huffs softly and looks away from Shouto, staring at the floor in front of him. “You know….if you ever needed a place to crash, my mom would welcome you with open arms. I think she’d just be excited about me bringing a friend home, to be honest. And she’d make all your favorite foods, too. I’m not trying to push or anything like that. Just, you know, the option is there for you, if your home becomes too much to handle.”
He’s not sure if Shouto would ever actually take him up on that offer. It’s bold of him, to say the least. They haven’t known each other in this life long enough to justify Izuku opening his home but there’s a part of him that feels relieved to know he’s offered. It’s almost like the person he used to be is patting him on the back, thanking him for taking that nerve-wracking step for the person he once loved.
Though, saying that would imply he doesn’t love Shouto right now. He’s not entirely sure, if he’s being honest with himself. Every time he lets himself think about his feelings, it leads to him having an existential crisis over whether the feelings are truly his own or just residual from the other world.
Before he can dive too deeply into that line of thinking, he feels a hand brush against his own. The touch is so brief and light that he almost misses it if not for how unexpected it is. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer, Izuku,” Shouto says, his voice quiet and almost uncertain.
It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but it’s enough for now. Izuku can’t imagine that it was easy for Shouto to accept the help after being raised to think needing any is a sign of weakness. He decides to consider it a win.
They’ve almost made it to the classroom now but it hasn’t escaped Izuku’s notice that they’ve started walking a little slower. He glances over at Shouto, gaze lingering on his neutral expression for a few seconds before sliding down to his hand. It would be easy to just reach out and take it, and it’s suddenly all Izuku can think about.
Would it be too bold? They haven’t held hands before. Well, technically they have, but not in this life. Not for the first time, Izuku wishes he could stop being so overwhelmed and frustrated by trying to reconcile a past life with the one he’s currently living. This should be easy, right? He wants to hold Shouto’s hand, has done so before, knows that Shouto remembers him doing so before, and is mostly sure that he won’t be rejected.
Right. Easy.
Izuku takes a deep breath before hesitantly reaching out and taking Shouto’s hand. He can feel the way Shouto tenses, taken by surprise at the sudden contact. When a few seconds pass without him reciprocating the gesture, Izuku feels his cheeks burn and starts to pull his hand away, ready to apologize for being so presumptive.
And then Shouto intertwines their fingers, holding Izuku’s hand tightly so he can’t let go.