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My dad’s a prick. He’s the kind of person I’d never be around if I could help it. The whole repeatedly-abusing-my-mother-thing kinda pisses me off. A lot. So, I avoid him as best as I can. As a result, I spend a lot of time at school.
Oh, sorry. I haven’t introduced myself. Shouto Todoroki, Terribly Bored 16-year-old. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I can’t see your face right now and you’re not saying anything, so how am I supposed to form an opinion of you? I know, I know, for politeness sake I should just say “nice to meet ya”. My father taught me that. It’s one of the things I know, but don’t really understand, you know what I mean?
Anyway, as I was saying, I spend a lot of time at school. Which isn’t fun, but it’s better than the alternative. All the other kids are loud and annoying, so I endure the long hours with the aid of my headphones and sci-fi paperbacks. My favorite time of the day is the lunchbreak, ‘cause I get to sit by myself in a table at the back of the mess hall with my headphones and my soba without being disturbed by anyone. The other kids know very well I don’t like their company.
So, I’m surprised when someone taps my shoulder a minute into Hunger by Florence and the Machine. Looking up revealed a pair of huge green eyes staring at me. I examine the boy from head to toe while setting down my food and my headphones, reaching the conclusion that he’s a complete stranger.
“Hi” the boy says, shifting his weight from one foot to another “Can I sit with you?”
“Why?” there’s plenty of room in other tables. Some of them are even empty.
“I, hum, just transferred from another school. I saw you sitting alone and I thought…” the words come out rushed at first, but they slow down to a stop as if he has run out of steam halfway through his little monologue.
“There are other empty tables” it seems reasonable to point that out, but the green-eyed boy doesn’t even turn his head to fact-check that information.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“No. You can sit if you want to” I allow, turning my attention back to my food.
The boy hurries to put his tray on the table and take the seat across from me.
“Izuku Midoriya” the boy offers me his hand; I shake it begrudgingly.
“Shouto Todoroki” I pull my headphones over my ears, hopping to put an end to the conversation.
It works, though not as well as I’d have liked. Throughout all week, Midoriya sits across from me during lunch. I keep my headphones in place and do no more than nod to acknowledge his presence; he doesn’t seem put off by this, which is curious. All the other kids in my class had, one by one, given up on approaching me after consecutive cold shoulders, but Midoriya appears to be unaffected by it.
In the first day of the following week, I decide to get to the bottom of that.
“Why do you keep sitting with me?”
Midoriya seems startled that I spoke to him.
“Hum… well…” he stutters “I can’t… sit with the other kids.”
“Why not?” come to the think of it, Midoriya should’ve made some friends already. Other people seem to do it with remarkable ease.
“You know Kac-Bakugou, right?” Midoriya plays with his food as he speaks, spreading rice all over the plate.
“Right” Bakugou is one of the smartest kids in our year. He is also loud and insufferable.
“Well, we’ve known each other for a very long time and he does not like me much” Midoriya reveals “He warned me that if I didn’t stay out of his sight, he was going to bash my face in, so…”
Midoriya shrugs, though his shoulders are stiff.
“So, yeah, I’m a pariah. What about you?”
“I like that word. Pariah” I say, rolling the syllables on my tongue “Did you know it comes from the Indian caste system?”
“No” Midoriya blinks.
“I don’t like people” I say, pushing my empty plate to the side and pulling the novella I’m halfway through from my bag.
“You like words that come from the Indian caste system and, hum, science-fiction books?” the way Midoriya’s voice rises at the end makes it sound like a question, though I’m not sure it was intended to be one.
“Yes” I say anyway. I’m happy to end the conversation on this note, and fortunately, Midoriya seems to agree. He sits there for the remainder of the lunchbreak, gaze fixed on my face. I’m used to people staring, so it’s easy to just ignore it and focus on my book.
Overall, it’s a good day. Mystery solved. I’m content with the perspective of the return of our silent meals, but Midoriya seems to have gotten the wrong idea from our brief conversation.
“I like sci-fi too” Midoriya says the very next day upon taking the seat across from me.
“Good for you” I mutter, carefully fishing out the pieces of carrot from my sandwich. The task consumes my attention for a while; when I’m done, I look up and find Midoriya’s eyes downcast, his mouth pinched.
Crap. Now he’s upset. Probably my fault.
“Do you read a lot?” I ask. Should I apologize?
Midoriya brightens up instantly. It’s kind of fascinating. Like watching the sun come forth from behind a cloud.
“I guess” there’s a pause. Maybe Midoriya thinks I want to say something. I don’t. I also don’t want to scramble for another observation or question, so I just wait until he comes up with something “There’s… this movie, you know, in the theaters. I was wondering if you’d like to go watch it” the last part is said to the plate full of food that Midoriya is yet to touch.
“With you?” it’s important to clarify. These kinds of non-questions confuse me.
“Yeah” Midoriya laughs, a chuckle that is short lived and nervous “With me. Together.”
I take a bite off my sandwich, contemplating. On one hand, I don’t really do this hang out thing. On another, I really like movies.
Midoriya twitches occasionally as he watches me eat. By the time I’m done with my sandwich, he hasn’t even begun to eat and lunchbreak is almost over.
“You’re not eating” I say. He scratches the back of his neck.
“I’m not hungry” he mutters “What about the movie?”
“I’ll skip chess club and meet you at the entrance after the last bell.”
“Today?!”
What a silly question, really.
“Of course” I stand up and look at Midoriya, surprised to see the look of pure horror in his face “What?”
“Nothing” he squeaks “I just… nothing, yeah, see you, last bell.”
He stands up and scurries away fast, leaving his untouched food behind.
Strange. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I make my way to class. The afternoon is uneventful; the ringing of the last bell brings obvious relief to my classmates. In any other day, I’d be indifferent to it, but today I feel curiosity swimming in the back of my mind.
Midoriya waits for me at the entrance, face flushed and swinging back and forth in his feet. When I tap his shoulder, he jumps.
“Ready?”
He scans my face, his green eyes taking in my features with something akin to surprise shinning in them, which confuses me. He has seen my face dozens of times already. What’s suddenly so interesting about it?
“Ready” he says after a moment.
The movie theater is bigger than I thought it would be. As we wait in line to get our tickets, I take in the surroundings and reach the conclusion that it’s a nice place.
“I think I’ll come back here” I say aloud.
“Which theater do you usually go to?” Midoriya asks.
“I don’t usually go anywhere, except school.”
Midoriya insists on paying, which is fine by me. The lady that hands us our tickets gives us a strange look while she wishes us an enjoyable movie. Her eyes dart between us like she knows something. I don’t think much of it, especially because entering the exhibition room and finding our seats proves to be rather challenging. The room is dark and packed with people. Midoriya apologizes at least thirty times for stepping on people’s toes before we finally sit down.
“That lady back there looked at us funny” the seats are more comfortable than I thought they’d be. The screen it’s still dark, though I can see it’s huge.
“Funny?” Midoriya’s voice sounds weird, like he’s in panic.
“Yeah, the way she smiled.”
“Hum” Midoriya is squirming in his seat and it’s puzzling me, so I stare at him until he gathers his bearings enough to talk to me again “I think… she thought that… we’re together” he mutters at last, just as the screen lights up.
“But we are” how odd that Midoriya is so twitchy over this.
“No, I mean… together… as in a date.”
Someone shushes us and Midoriya clamps his mouth shut. I keep staring at his profile for a minute, thinking.
“Is this a date?” my pulse quickens as I ask.
Midoriya gives me a side glance, examining my expression before muttering softly:
“If you want to.”
Okay, confession time: I’ve never been on a date before. I’ve been asked out by some girls from school, but I rejected them all. I had no interest in dating. Had I known this was meant to be a date, I probably wouldn’t have come.
But we are here already, so, what the hell?
Grabbing the collar of Midoriya’s shirt, I pull him close until his face is only an inch away from mine, then I lean forward and press our lips together.
It’s weird, but also nice. Warm and soft.
We don’t end up watching the movie. When it ends, I have a hard time pulling away and Midoriya giggles when I pout.
“I like dating you” I tell him once we’re outside the theater. He smiles, eyes wrinkling up at the corners from how wide his grin is. It’s beautiful to watch.
“We’ll keep doing it, then?” he asks, holding my hand as we walk toward the train station. Holding hands, like kissing, is more pleasant than I expected.
“Definitely” I pull him for another kiss.
We sit side by side in the train, our fingers entwined. Heat and happiness come off of Midoriya in waves, and I bask in it. He starts to talk about some ad he saw plastered across the station, one that featured a manga character he really likes. He rambles about it for a couple minutes and I just listen. Eventually, a blush creeps across his cheeks.
“Anyway, I really like this story. The art is incredible” Midoriya finishes his rambling with a shrug.
“Are you an artist?”
His smile becomes cheeky. He pulls a blank page from his backpack and raises it so I can see it clearly.
“You could say so. This is my latest work” there’s a glint of mirth in Midoriya’s eyes “It’s a rabbit in a snowstorm.”
It seems a bit odd to me, but I’m not very attuned to these things, so I just nod.
“Is it one of those vanguard things?”
Midoriya chuckles.
“It’s a joke” he says, searching my face “You don’t get it, do you?”
Frowning, I shake my head no.
“You’re an odd duck, Shouto Todoroki” he says softly.
“I like ducks. Specially the small ones. They’re so cute” forget cat or dog videos. Whenever I feel really bad, I spent several hours watching ducklings’ videos “Do you like ducks?” it belatedly dawns on me that Midoriya might not be a duck person.
“I do. You’re right, they’re cute” the blush comes back to Midoriya’s face in full force “So-so are you.”
“Thank you” something else comes to mind “Is that why you acted weird earlier? Girls do that when I come near them. They start to giggle and stuff.”
Midoriya averts his eyes.
“Hum, yes.”
“I never understood that” it really doesn’t make any sense. The giggling is profoundly annoying to me.
“Well – it’s, you know, nervousness. Because you’re so handsome” he covers his mouth with his free hand right after he says that.
Normally, I’d find the idea of someone being nervous around me because of my looks incredibly stupid, but a pleasant warmth courses through me at Midoriya’s words. I don’t know about other people, but I feel endeared that he feels that way.
“Thank you” I say, and I mean it “You’re beautiful too” and he really is. There’s more beauty in his kind eyes and bright smile than in the face of any supermodel I have ever seen.
My dad, the prick, is waiting for me when I get home. His expression is more tempestuous than usual, but I pretend not to see it. It’s easier than it normally is – right now, my mind is full of memories of Midoriya that fill me with warmth. There’s no space for the cold fear my father’s presence usually brings.
“You’re supposed to come home straight from school” my dad’s voice booms, filling the living room with his rage.
“I was out with a friend” it’s all I say. My voice sounds calm and I’m proud of that.
My father scowls, like I had said something disgusting and infuriating.
“I forbid you from wasting any more time with such nonsense.”
My first instinct is to put up a fight. But I know it’s pointless; besides, he can’t really keep me from seeing Midoriya at school. The rest I could figure out later.
“As you say” shrugging, I make my way past him. He’s appeased for now, so at least I don’t have to waste energy arguing with him.
The next day, I realize I underestimated his distaste for my venture into the world beyond the walls of his house and of the school building, because he announces over breakfast that he’ll drive me to school in the mornings and pick me up in the afternoons from that moment on.
“That way you don’t get any ideas.”
There’s little I can do but fume in silence. For the first time in forever, I actually want to be near someone, but then the prick comes over and decides I don’t have that right.
During lunchbreak, I tell Midoriya how pissed off I am at the whole thing. He listens attentively.
“That’s so mean” Midoriya frowns.
“That’s my dad for you” I grumble “Is your dad a prick too?”
Midoriya averts his eyes, shoulders sagging.
“I don’t think so. My mom left him when I was a little, and took me with her. He still sends me birthday cards every year without fail, though” Midoriya sighs wistfully “I remember we used to watch cartoons together, but not much else.”
“Did your mom ever tell you why they split up?”
“No. She just says she got a good job offer here in town, so she moved and left him behind.”
We both play with the food for a minute. The unfairness of it all hangs over our heads, and it makes me angry.
“Did you ever try going after him?”
“No” Midoriya shakes his head “I love my mom. I don’t want to upset her.”
I stare at him for a moment, incapable of understanding that particular sentiment.
“If you went after him, it’d be for you” is the only thing I can think of saying. Midoriya nods, but drops the conversation, and I’m left wondering when Midoriya’s feelings had become important to me to the point where I can’t forget our conversation in the days that follow. When Friday rolls around, I have this annoying concern that Midoriya will carry the doubt about his father for the rest of his life, and it frustrates me.
“We should look for your dad.”
Midoriya contemplates his food for so long I start to think he’ll dismiss the idea.
“Even if I wanted to… We lived in another city. I know our old address, but not how to get there.”
“I have an idea.”
And it’s an easy one to carry out. When my father shows up at the end of the school day to drag me home, I tell him the Principal wants to have a word. He goes inside the school, miffed, leaving the key in the ignition.
“Do you know how to drive?” Midoriya asks with apprehension.
“Yes” I say, but he doesn’t look convinced “You don’t trust me?”
His eyes meet mine and I see a joyous grin take over his face. He takes the passenger seat.
“I do.”
We’re silent for a while, just watching the city fly past us. Midoriya puts his old address in the GPS, and I follow the directions to a T. There’s a nervous energy in the air – or at least I think there is. Midoriya’s posture gets more stiff the farther away we get from the school.
“Do you steal your dad’s car a lot?” he asks suddenly.
“No” I have an impulse to tell him this is more for him than for me, but I hold it back.
“So, he lets you drive it, then?”
“Sometimes” I shrug.
“What else do you do sometimes?”
We’ve had many talks before, but this one is different: We’re on my dad’s stolen car, driving close to the speed limit, windows open and the wind whipping our hair around as we chase after a lost piece of Midoriya’s past. This talk is energetic, full of laughter and revelations and so liberating I hardly recognize myself. I have never heard my own voice so much. My cheeks hurt from smiling. There’s a pleasant excitement thrumming in my veins.
It’s wonderful and I don’t want this trip to end. I want to sit here, driving and taking in Midoriya’s smile forever.
We aren’t frozen in space or time, however. We do reach our destination eventually. We sit inside the car, looking at the condo where Midoriya used to live with his parents. Midoriya takes several deep breaths, calming himself, then hops outside abruptly.
I follow him out of the car, across a sad excuse of a front yard, up three flights of stairs. Finally, we stop before a door.
Midoriya freezes, standing so still before the door it’s like he’s afraid the doorbell will bite him if he tries to ring it.
“We can leave” I say. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.
“No” Midoriya unfreezes and knocks.
“One moment!” a woman’s voice comes muffled through the door.
It swings open a second later, revealing a short woman with a baby in her arms.
“I don’t want to buy anything” she says, sounding impatient.
“I’m looking for Hisashi Midoriya” Midoriya says in a rush.
“Honey, there’s someone here to see you!” she shouts over her shoulder.
Honey. I’ve watched enough movies to know that this can’t be good.
The woman disappears inside the apartment. A man comes out after a moment, adjusting a tie. He and Midoriya are nothing alike.
“Yes?”
Midoriya stares at him with wide eyes. I feel uncomfortable standing there watching them, and it belatedly occurs to me that maybe I should’ve stayed in the car.
“It’s me, dad” Midoriya says, voice hoarse “Izuku.”
Surprise flashes across Mr. Midoriya’s face.
“You… you’ve grown a lot” he says, a bit awkward.
I’m the last person who would claim to be some sort of expert on people. That being said, it’s plain obvious that Midoriya’s dad isn’t happy to be reunited with his son.
“You’re still at the door?” the woman calls from inside the apartment. Mr. Midoriya looks over his shoulder.
“Listen, now isn’t a good time” Mr. Midoriya says “Maybe-”
“You kept sending birthday cards. You knew where he lived” I can’t help myself, I have to point that out. If Mr. Midoriya didn’t want to his old family mixing with his new one, then why…
“I didn’t send-”
Mr. Midoriya interrupts himself and it’s easy to know why: Midoriya’s face has collapsed, his eyes filling with tears.
“You-you didn’t know where we lived?”
It’s painful to watch Midoriya cling to this last straw of hope. It’s even worse to watch it come undone.
“I knew she went to her parents’ house after signing the divorce papers. After that…” Mr. Midoriya casts another glance over his shoulder. The baby had started to cry “Listen, Izuku, you’d do better going back to your mom.”
Midoriya hangs his head and walks away without another word. I’m furious on Midoriya’s behalf, but fighting his father will not help, so I just follow him down the hallway.
“I’m sorry” Midoriya says when we reach the bottom of the stairs. His words startle me.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I wasted your time” he tries to wipe away the tears, but they keep coming “Your dad… he’ll be mad at you and it was all for nothing-”
“Don’t worry about my father” I say, reaching out to put my hand on his shoulder “And it wasn’t for nothing.”
“He doesn’t care about me” Midoriya sobs “My mom – she tried to protect me, that’s why she didn’t want to tell me about him. She gave me those cards every year… I-I should’ve known.”
As a general rule, I’m not a hugger. I’m barely even a handshaker. But being hugged by my mom used to make me feel safe. That is, up until it didn’t anymore.
Pushing away the bad memories, I pull Midoriya into a hug. He buries his face in my chest and cries with abandon while I run my fingers through his curly green hair. The strands coil back to their original position when I stretch them. I lose myself in the simple action of watching his curls reassemble for a while, but as Midoriya calms down, memories creep from the back of my mind to the center stage.
“My dad used to hit my mom. He mistreated her so much one day she snapped and-” my hand comes up to touch the scar on the left side of my face almost on instinct “She lost control of herself. He sent her away after that. Locked her up in a hospital and locked me up inside the house.”
“I’m sorry” Midoriya’s voice is almost a whisper. His face is turned up at me, green eyes still wet with tears “So sorry, Shouto…”
It takes a conscious effort, but I lower my hand to his face and stroke his cheek.
“Both of our dads are pricks. But we aren’t them, Izuku.”
He nods, the crying coming to a stop. In a flash, he stands on the tips of his toes and presses his lips to mine. This kiss isn’t like any of the previous ones we shared. This one is hungry, as if he wants to devour me, or maybe replace the sadness we both feel with something else, something that makes our hearts beat faster, makes us glad to be alive and together.
Despite the terrible truths he learned about his father and mine, Midoriya looks lighter when we part and slowly drag ourselves back to the car. He keeps glancing at me, and it’s like I can see the secret I told him in his eyes, carefully guarded. There’s a connection between us, a new bond that strongly links us together.
It’s like he can see right through me now and at first, it makes me uneasy. But as we pull away, the road stretching ahead of us, I realize that I can see right through him, too.