Archive of Our Own

The blank canvas stares at him hauntingly. A beam of sunlight cuts across the upper half, leaving a warm glow around it. It makes Shouto want to take a knife and slice the damned thing, there, right across the sunbeam. 

He doesn’t gut the blank canvas, however, because then he’d have to get up and throw it out and grab a new blank canvas and he’d be back at square one. Instead, Shouto does the mature thing and tosses his paintbrush to the ground. The wooden brush clatters against the stone floor harshly. 

He flips through his sketchbook, nearly tearing the pages from the seam, in a last desperate attempt to find some sort of motivation, even an inkling of inspiration. Shouto finds nothing though, only half-finished sketches and smudged graphite. 

Shouto stands up from his stool, tossing the sketchbook onto a nearby desk. He heads towards the window and flops face-first onto the chaise positioned beneath it, hugging a soft throw pillow against his chest. 

Maybe he should find a new occupation. One that requires less innovation and novelty. Perhaps he should have followed in his older brother’s footsteps and studied medicine. He could be a decent doctor. Probably. 

“You’re still in here?” Shouto looks up and sees his sister peeking through the sliding doors to his art studio. 

“I think I will probably die in here,” Shouto sighs, turning over onto his back. 

“Hey, cheer up,” Fuyumi walks over, nudging at Shouto’s shoulder. “One emo brother is enough.” 

“Touya’s not emo, he’s goth,” Shouto says, reciting the words his eldest brother repeats oh-so often.

“He’s a gloomy nuisance of a person,” Fuyumi scoffs, bending down to pick up Shouto’s abandoned brush. “You just gonna lie there all day, Shouto? Your art block isn’t going to magically go away if you spend the whole day moping around.” 

Shouto keeps the petulant ‘you don’t know that’ that pops into his head to himself. Fuyumi is not one to appreciate a cynical attitude. 

“Why don’t you go outside? Get some fresh air?” Fuyumi suggests, tugging the throw pillow out of Shouto’s arms, forcing him to sit upright. His sister doesn’t even give him a chance to turn that suggestion down. “Take Eri-chan with you. She’s getting bored too.” Fuyumi pats Shouto’s shoulder, giving him one last stern look before leaving. 

Shouto wonders if he just stays in here and is super quiet, she’ll forget. He lies back down and closes his eyes, praying that when he wakes up the world will look a little less bleak. 

✿   ✿   ✿

No such luck. 

Shouto gets to close his eyes for a grand total of 27 seconds before he feels something small and cold poking at his cheek. He cracks an eye open and is met with the sight of a small Eri, standing next to his chaise. 

“Are we going outside now?” Eri asks, all big, innocent eyes and small, child-like voice, clutching her rubber rain boots to her chest. 

Fuyumi is merciless, Shouto internally groans. 

“Yeah, okay,” Shouto sighs, standing up and heading out to grab his own coat and shoes. 

✿   ✿   ✿

It’s still a bit chilly for spring, especially in the late afternoon. It’s nothing too extreme, but since vampires don’t thermoregulate the same way humans do they have to be extra careful not to get too cold or too hot. 

Thus, Shouto is sure to make sure both he and Eri are appropriately bundled up for their excursion to the great outdoors. 

They stand in the front foyer of the shop, near the door. Pale sunlight streams through the windows, flecks of dust floating around the air. He helps Eri put on her raincoat, adjusting the collar and sleeves, gently tugging her long, silvery-white hair out. 

“Oh, Shou-chan! You’re awake?” Nejire blinks, mildly surprised. Both Amajiki and she have spray bottles in their hands, having returned from watering the succulents in the other room.

“Yeah…” Shouto remembers back to four hours ago, when he was taking a nap. It was perhaps the closest thing to joy he had felt in a while.

“Don’t sound so depressed about that,” Amajiki shakes his head wearily. 

“Is Yumi-chan forcing you to go outside?” Nejire giggles, covering her mouth with her hand in a delicate manner. Her nails are painted a coral colour today, tiny gems placed near her cuticles. 

“I’m taking Eri out for her walk,” Shouto nods. 

“She’s not a dog, you know,” Amajiki says, smoothing down some of Eri’s baby hairs. Eri waves Nejire and Amajiki goodbye, slipping her other hand into Shouto’s and tugs him towards the door, pulling with all her might. Which shouldn’t be a lot since she’s like half his height but Shouto finds himself being yoinked along anyway. He sends a half-hearted wave to Neijire and Amajiki and wonders if he should work out some more. 

(Or maybe they should teach Eri some martial arts and create the most OP six-year-old in existence.)

✿   ✿   ✿

The outdoors, as Shouto remembers it, is not much, just: boring and occasionally wet. 

And that’s exactly what it is today: boring and occasionally wet. 

Eri jumps into her fourth puddle but by now Shouto has learned to stay out of the splash zone. At least someone is having a good time. 

“Let’s play hide-and-seek!” Eri suggests once they enter a small clearing. 

“If you insist. What number should I count to?”

“One million!” 

“How about a hundred?” Shouto bargains, “Eri-chan is very good at hiding. If I give you a million seconds, I’ll never find you.”

“Alright. But no peeking!” Eri says with all the seriousness of a pint-sized hide-and-seek champion. 

“No peeking,” Shouto promises. He turns around and covers his eyes with his hands and begins to count backwards from one hundred, at a steady, monotonous volume. 

He hears Eri run away behind him, a few leaves fluttering into the air as she zooms away. 

Soon enough, he reaches one. 

Shouto rarely played hide-and-seek as a child but he imagines that finding Eri immediately would ruin the fun of the game for a kid. Shouto mulls over how long he should pretend to be looking for Eri; it should be long enough that Eri still has fun hiding but not too long or it’ll seem he’s abandoned her in the woods. 

He imagines that would be a traumatizing experience. Not that he’s speaking from experience of anything. 

(Another reason Shouto likes to avoid nature: it always ends up causing his expertly repressed memories to resurface…) 

Shouto sighs, leaning against a tree and watching a couple of birds flutter from tree to tree. A few more minutes, then he’ll find Eri and pray that one round was enough to satiate her. Shouto closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. To his surprise, it’s not only the damp earth and pine trees he smells. 

Blood. Fresh blood, he’s sure of it. He can feel his senses heighten and his fangs sharpen, primal instincts kicking in. 

Shouto tilts his head, smelling the air again and listening for any suspicious sounds. He hears faint voices a few hundred metres northeast; the scent of the blood is stronger that way as well. 

In a couple of seconds, Shouto is there, peeking from behind a sturdy tree, the rough bark digging into the skin of his palm. There’s Eri, wringing her hands nervously. In front of her is a green-haired man, dropping down to one knee. Behind him is a taller blonde man who frankly looks more annoyed than any person ought to be. 

“Are you lost? What’s your name?” The green-haired individual asks, head tilted to the side, gentle concern lacing his words. 

“I’m Eri. Did you get hurt, mister?” 

“Ah, no! I’m alright, it’s just a small cut.”

“You’re bleeding…” 

Shouto’s breath hitches when he notices the way Eri’s pupils dilate, eyes focused on the small cut on the stranger’s other hand. Not good. Before the situation can worsen, Shouto intervenes. Swiftly and sharply, he grabs Eri, dropping down to one knee and covering her head with one hand. He pulls her tight against his chest, obscuring her from the view of the two men best he can. He glances up at the suspicious strangers, shooting them a cold and callous glare. 

“Oh. Um, hello?” The green-haired stranger looks at Shouto hesitantly, waving awkwardly with one hand. “I’m Midoriya Izuku. You must be Eri-chan’s…” 

“Her brother,” Shouto confirms, grateful Eri’s white-ish hair matches his right side enough that he doesn’t have to explain the adoptive part of that statement. He stands up, adjusting his hold on Eri. “I’m sorry if she caused you any trouble.”

“Not at all!” Midoriya shakes his head. “I was the one who got startled and tripped.”

“Freakin’ klutz,” the blonde mutters under his breath, crossing his arms and glaring off to the side. 

“This is Kacchan!” Midoriya helpfully gestures. 

Kacchan kicks at Midoriya’s shin, “Don’t go introducing me to people like that, Deku!”

“Sorry, sorry!” 

“Well…goodbye then.” Shouto walks off with Eri before the conversation can continue. 

“Oh, uh, bye! It was nice meeting you!” Midoriya calls after them. Shouto doesn’t bother to reply back.

As Shouto exits the clearing, he faintly hears grumbles of conceited pricks and gets your damn cut cleaned before it gets infected, shitty Deku! in the distance.

(He can add weird humans to the list of things the outdoors has to offer.)

“He looked like a fairy,” Eri whispers, voice small but full of awe, once they’re safely out of hearing range. 

“Is that what fairies look like?” Shouto hums. He doesn’t dare to go any faster than a brisk pace, not when there are humans so close by. 

“Probably,” Eri nods against his neck. “His eyes were so big and there were sparkles on his cheeks!”

“Freckles, you mean,” Shouto murmurs, relaxing when the house is finally back in sight. Shouto only vaguely recalls the man having freckles, his focus being more directed towards Eri at the time. He wonders if they really did look like sparkles. He just can’t remember, though.

✿   ✿   ✿

Shouto, of course, reports today’s adventures to Fuyumi, maturely ignoring the betrayed look Eri sends his way when he does. 

“Eri -chan!” Fuyumi scolds. Eri looks away, aggressively slurping through her swirly straw. “You have to be more careful when there are humans around. You can't just go running around so quickly.” 

“M’sorry,” Eri mumbles, sipping up the last of her afternoon blood. 

“And you!” Fuyumi whirls around, sending a sharp glare at Shouto when she notices him trying to quietly slip out of the kitchen. “You were supposed to watch her!”

“We were playing hide-and-seek. It’d be cheating if my eyes were open.” 

Fuyumi, not caring for the rules of hide-and-seek, continues to lecture Shouto. 

“Shou-chan’s in trouble!” Nejire sings out, frolicking into the kitchen, Amajiki in tow. “That’s so unlucky though. Bumping into humans in the woods!”

“Why were there even humans back there?” Amajiki looks out the window nervously, as if there could be humans standing right outside now. 

“Humans are weird. They like to do stupid stuff like walking into abandoned forests for fun,” Nejire pats Amajiki’s shoulder, calming him down. “It was probably just the new neighbours wanting to check out the grounds.” 

The mention of their new human neighbours spikes up Amajiki’s anxiety once again. Eri stands up on her barstool and pours Amajiki a glass of some fresh A-positive, sliding the glass over and patting his hand consolingly. 

“Someone finally bought that rickety old house, huh?” Fuyumi hums.

“Maybe they wanna renovate it?” Nejire suggests. “What did they look like?” She leans closer to Shouto, eyes shining with excitement. Shouto recalls Eri's description of Midoriya earlier and suddenly feels a bit embarrassed.

“...Human,” Shouto mutters instead. 

“What kind of description is that?” Nejire makes a face. 

“One was blonde and one had green hair and…” Shouto pauses, suddenly remembering something. He grabs the memo pad and pen from the kitchen counter, flipping to a blank page and desperately tries to recall that memory with as much detail as possible.

“Shouto?” Fuyumi asks, eyes furrowing with confusion. 

“This. This symbol,” Shouto shows them his sketch. “You’ve seen it before too, right?” It’s an emblem, the letters U and A styled in the centre, a blade in the background. 

Fuyumi’s eyes light up in recognition. Nejire and Amajiki share a worried look.  

“Hunters,” Fuyumi says, her voice steely and cold. 

See, Shouto knew nothing good would come from going outside. 

✿   ✿   ✿

Later that night, after Eri is put to bed and Touya finally comes back from who-knows-where, an emergency meeting is called. 

“We’re gonna die,” Amajiki says morosely, staring into space with a horrified look. 

“We’re not going to die,” Fuyumi sighs. “We’ll just have to be careful.”

“If they’re hunters, there’s no way they’d stay in this little town for too long!” Nejire adds. “We’ll lay low for a bit. It’ll be fine, Tamaki.”

“Girly Pop is right,” Touya leans back in his seat, an arm slung over the back. “Act like everything is normal and they’ll pack up and leave soon enough. Besides, our cover is foolproof. This cutesy little nursery doesn’t exactly scream blood-sucking vampires.” 

“That’s right. No way they’d suspect us! I mean, we even sell garlic plants,” Nejire nods enthusiastically. 

“As long as we act normal and stay away from those hunters, everything will be alright,” Fuyumi smiles reassuringly. 

“Cool. Can I go now?” Shouto asks. He was totally over this whole hunters thing about three hours ago and would like to sleep now. 

“I know I just said we should stay calm but you could be a little bit more concerned, Shouto…” 

He’d rather forget the whole thing and continue to wallow away in emptiness in his studio. But he doesn’t say that to Fuyumi, out of fear she’ll make him go outside again. 

Or maybe they’ll have to limit the amount of time they spend out, now that there are vampire hunters in close proximity. It’s not too hopeful to think something good would come out of vampire hunters setting up shop next door, right?

✿   ✿   ✿

The next morning, the nursery receives some unwelcome visitors. 

Shouto watches as Amajiki crushes a clay pot in his bare hands when three hunters walk through the front door. 

“Is that them?” he whispers nervously to Shouto. Shouto wonders why he’s asking when his reaction clearly shows he already knows the answer. But Shouto nods in confirmation for him anyway. 

Nejire sighs, shooing Amajiki away and leaving Shouto to man the shop. 

“Oh, hello again!” Midoriya waves. He’s with the blonde again but there’s also a small, brunette woman with them, this time. 

“You know him?” she asks, eyes flickering between Shouto and Midoriya. 

“Ah, we met in the woods yesterday,” Midoriya says, sheepishly running a hand through his hair. Shouto notices the band-aids wrapped around his finger and spread across his palm; they’re purple and pink with little stars and hearts on them. Eri would probably like them. 

“Deku and Kacchan, right?” Shouto says with a straight face. Predictably, the blonde’s face contorts into a face of pure rage. It’s a little fascinating how angry a single person can look. 

“Don’t call me that, you half-and-half bastard,” He snarls at Shouto. 

“Apologies, valued customer.” 

“It’s Midoriya and Bakugou, actually.” Midoriya corrects with a smile, before Bakuogu’s anger can escalate. 

“I’m Uraraka Ochako,” the brunette waves. “And you are…?” She prods when Shouto gives no reply.

“Shouto. Are you here to buy anything?” 

“We just moved in recently and were checking out the area,” Uraraka smiles, leaning on the front counter. 

“So, you’re not buying anything?” He hears Bakugou grumble something about ‘shitty customer service skills’ but Shouto has the feeling he’s not exactly one to talk. 

“Haha! Don’t mind him,” Nejire pops up behind Shouto, all bright smile and cheerful voice. “He didn’t get his morning nap today.” Nejire pinches his side sharply while she keeps up her smile and Shouto, with a bit of effort, maintains his blank face.  

“No one’s lived in that old house for years, I was so excited to hear we’re finally getting some neighbours!”

“Oh, you live in the shop?” Shouto tunes out the friendly conversation Nejire makes with Uraraka and Midoriya. Eyes staring ahead, not focused on anything in particular. Somehow, they wander over to Midoriya’s face and...

Freckles.  

All Shouto sees are Midoriya’s freckles. They don't really look like sparkles. More like tiny little flicks of paint dusting his cheeks. There’s one right under his left eye and wow those are big eyes. Shouto is beginning to see the fairy resemblance. Especially when the dim morning sun shines through the glass, light bouncing off the back of Midoriya’s head, casting shadows of teal in the soft waves of his hair. He looks like he belongs here, fitting in perfectly with the dark greens of the rubber plant leaves and the bluish tones of the succulents on the shelves. 

The loud sound of Nejire clapping her hands together breaks Shouto out of his stupor. He wonders how long he was staring for. Glancing over at Nejire, he sees her grinning and nodding her head at Uraraka, the small woman seemingly matching Nejire’s enthusiasm. Shouto has no clue what they’re talking about. 

“Feel free to look around the back too,” Nejire says. “We also have these beautiful garlic plants on sale~” Nejire wiggles her fingers as she gestures to the clay pots with large, green garlic stems. 

“Uh, I think we’re okay on garlic,” Midoriya laughs a little. It’s a melodic sound, something Shouto would never imagine hearing in their cramped, dim shop front. 

“We can never have too much garlic!” Uraraka insists. Shouto leans against the back wall, watching as Nejire miraculously manages to make a sale. 

Shouto’s eyes wander everywhere but back at Midoriya. He’s kinda annoyed that his brain wants to keep looking at him, so Shouto resolutely does not look at Midoriya. He briefly catches Bakugou looking at him with narrowed eyes and a suspicious frown. Shouto stares at Bakugou instead, looking the other man dead in the eyes with an expressionless face. 

This apparently angers the man even further, seeing as Bakugou glares even harder.

Shouto has seemingly dragged himself into a spontaneous staring contest. Shouto isn’t particularly invested in winning but Bakugou seems to be, if the vengeful stubbornness in his eyes is any hint. Shouto should probably just look away and put an end to this peculiar interaction. But he finds himself wondering exactly how long Bakugou is willing to maintain uncomfortable and unnecessary eye contact with Shouto. 

So he keeps staring. And so does Bakugou. 

A normal person would feel pretty awkward right now. Lucky for Shouto, he was born without a properly functioning sense of shame (or so his siblings say) and Bakugou is apparently too hellbent on victory to let the awkwardness sink in. 

It’s not until Uraraka is snapping her fingers in front of Bakugou’s face does their contest comes to an end, with Shouto as the victor. Bakugou looks disgruntled and sends a venomous glare at Uraraka while Midoriya glances between the two of them curiously. Meanwhile. Shouto feels a sense of accomplishment. How novel. 

“Shouto, pack these up,” Nejire nudges Shouto and points to the various packets of seeds that he assumes Uraraka is buying. 

“Right.” Shouto grabs a brown paper bag and puts the packets inside, folding the edge over and sealing it with a sticker. He hands the bag to Uraraka wordlessly as Nejire finishes up with the transaction. 

“Thank you!” Uraraka beams waving at Shouto and Nejire. 

“It was nice seeing you again!” Midoriya smiles, sending a quick wave before following Uraraka out the door. Bakugou glares at him one last time. Shouto doesn’t need Nejire thinking he’s angered potential customers, especially ones that are vampire hunters, so Shouto plasters on a smile.

“Come back again,” he says in a saccharine voice, waving with one hand. This too angers Bakugou, seeing as his face turns red and he quickly whips around, stalking out the door without a goodbye. 

“He’s got a lively personality,” Nejire comments. 

“I think he just doesn't like me,” Shouto says. 

“Huh? Why?” Nejire blinks. 

“Don't know. He spent the whole time glaring at me,” Shouto shrugs. 

“That’s ‘cause your face is annoying,” Touya pops in, pinching Shouto’s left cheek roughly. “Sickening thing. Makes me wanna punch you.” 

“That’s because you’re an unhinged lunatic,” Shouto swats his hand away. 

“And? Maybe that guy is too. He’s a hunter, after all,” Touya muses. 

“You think he suspects Shou-chan?” Nejire gasps. 

“Nah,” Touya waves a hand. “Probably just an asshole. Maybe he thought you were ugly,” he pokes at the skin beneath Shouto’s scar. 

“That’s mean!” Nejire huffs, whipping a damp rag at Touya. “Shou-chan, you’re not ugly!” Nejire says with unwavering sincerity, sending a hand heart towards Shouto’s head. 

“Thank you?”

“I never said he was ugly,” Touya says, affronted. “I’m saying maybe that asshole thought that. Shouto,” Touya turns to face Shouto, putting his hand on Shouto’s shoulder, “If anyone ever calls you ugly I’ll set their home on fire.” 

“Please do not.”

“Fine. I’ll set them on fire.”

“No one’s even called me ugly before,” Shouto sighs, shrugging Touya’s hand off. “I’m gonna go tell Amajiki that the hunters are gone.” 

Despite letting Amajiki know the hunters have left, he refuses to leave the backroom for the time being. Shouto sits with him and helps him organize the seed packets, Amajiki’s quiet demeanour making him much more preferable company than Touya and Nejire’s loud and nonsensical chattering. 

A couple of hours later and Shouto thinks Amajiki might be onto something; hiding in a small, rickety room, surrounded by overgrown pothos, mindlessly organizing packets of radish seeds is a great way to hide from your problems and pretend you don’t exist. 

✿   ✿   ✿

Shouto spends an uncomfortable amount of time thinking about Midoriya and Bakugou. He wonders if it’s because they’re hunters and he’s just being vigilant. Or maybe it’s because they’re new faces. 

Shouto spends a good portion of the day replaying the few interactions he’s had with them in his head, over and over again. It’s like a film reel of his memories is going haywire in his brain. 

Unable to sleep due to his thoughts being plagued by spring-coloured strangers, Shouto throws his blankets off with a huff and gets out of bed. It’s nearly 5 AM, a good while before anyone else in the household would be waking up. As a modern-day vampire, Shouto is only semi-nocturnal and while being awake during sunrise won’t kill him…it’s not the most pleasant experience. So, he should probably just stay in bed, in the comfort of his blackout-curtained room. 

Except…he’s never seen the sunrise in his whole life. Ever. He wonders if it is wholly different than sunset. 

Shouto is turning more and more into a masochist these days, seeing as instead of staying inside like a sane vampire, Shouto steeps a teabag of orange pekoe in some watered-down blood and heads outside to watch the sunrise. 

It’s dim outside, a pale and eerie glow cast on the world. Dewdrops clinging to the overgrown grass in the front garden, wetness brushing against Shouto’s bare ankles as he treads through it. Shouto heads to the round table off to the side, taking a seat on a metal lawn chair, its white paint steadily having eroded over time. 

Soon enough, the sun begins to rise, peeking out over the horizon and illuminating the world in a golden glow, and Shouto thinks this is peaceful.

And then it’s not so peaceful because the sun is in his freaking eyes, it burns and skin itches like a million bugs are crawling all over him and Shouto’s body forgets how to breathe, like all his energy has suddenly been zapped from his body and holy fuck this was a bad idea. 

He misses the rest of the sunrise as he’s too busy hiding under the rickety outdoor table, chugging his blood tea down in hopes of gaining back a few ounces of energy, enough to haul his ass back inside and then never come out again, for the rest of eternity. 

That’s how Bakugou finds him, sometime later, hiding under the table in fetal position, barefoot, in his favourite pair of silk pyjamas. 

“What the fuck.” Bakugou stares down at him. 

“Good morning,” Shouto replies cordially, crawling out from beneath the table. Grass stains have seeped their way into the fabric of his pyjama bottoms; Shouto flexes his toes, cold morning dew tickling his skin. 

Bakugou continues to stare at him, a scowl of disgust marring his face. That might just be his resting face though. And Natsuo says Shouto has a resting bitch face. 

“We’re not open yet,” Shouto says after a few more beats of silence, dangling his empty mug on his pinkie. 

“I’m not here for your shitty plants,” Bakugou scowls harder. 

“Okay. Why are you here then, Bakugou?” 

“I looked over the fence and there was a fucking corpse under a table.”

“I’m not dead.” For the most part anyway.  

“I can see that,” Bakugou seethes. 

“That’s good,” Shouto nods. Bakugou says nothing more, just continues to scowl at Shouto with startling intensity. It reminds Shouto of an angry dandelion. 

“...Goodbye then.” Shouto turns around and heads back inside, ignoring the sharp look Bakugou sends to his back. 

Overall, that felt like a successful interaction. 

✿   ✿   ✿

Later that morning, Shouto wisely does not mention his flirtation with death from earlier. It proves to be an even more sensible decision than Shouto would have expected. Fuyumi would have undoubtedly absolutely lost it if she had to hear that and Touya’s news. 

“What?” Fuyumi cries out in alarm, an incredulous look on her face. 

“I am dating a human person. A man, to be more specific,” Touya says, ignoring the look of shock on Fuyumi’s face. 

“Congrats, you whore,” Shouto says, not even looking up as he helps Eri draw some butterflies on a sheet of paper. 

“Congrats, whore!” Eri chirps back. 

“See, that’s a supportive response you’d expect from family,” Touya shakes his head at Fuyumi who continues to stare at him with shock and horror. 

“You have a boyfriend now?” Nejire gasps, delighted at this new source of entertainment, undoubtedly. 

“Boyfriend sounds so juvenile,” Touya hums. “He’s more of an easily accessible booty call.”

“Ew,” Nejire grimaces, her delight vanishing. 

“A human though?” Amajiki squeaks out. “You’re not going to bring him here are you?”

“Maybe eventually,” Touya hums, purposefully oblivious to Amajiki’s increasing panic. 

“Can’t you just go to his place?” Nejire huffs. 

“Um, no? Fuyumi would probably faint from stress if I walked right into the den of a bunch of vamp hunters,” Touya says, rolling his eyes as if that statement should have been obvious enough.

“What?” Fuyumi practically shrieks, standing up to loom over Touya. 

“Didn’t I say? He’s one of the hunters next door,” Touya explains, seemingly unfazed by the way Fuyumi grips his collar. “Why do you look so constipated, Yumi?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fuyumi hisses, shaking Touya back and forth in a fit of anger. 

“Fulfilling Mother’s wish of not seeing me die alone.”

“Mom’s gonna be disappointed then because I’m going to—” 

Shouto covers Eri’s delicate ears as Fuyumi lists the monstrous and disturbing things she has planned for his eldest brother’s body. Nejire looks awed while Amajiki looks a little queasy. Touya simply looks impressed at the endless rage Fuyumi possesses. 

“Did you not even think for a second about the kind of danger you are putting us all in?” Fuyumi finishes off, seething. Shouto releases Eri’s ears, hoping it’s safe now. 

“Relax! No one is gonna find out our little family secret. He’s a fucking moron,” Touya assures. “I mean, what kind of vampire hunters move in right next door to actual vampires? Stupid ones!” 

“The only moron here is you!” Fuyumi hisses, stomping out of the kitchen. 

“I guess Tamaki and I will go grocery shopping. For human food. Since your boyfriend could apparently drop by whenever.” Nejire says, nudging at Amajiki to get up. A smart decision because Shouto sure as hell does not know how a grocery store works. Or even what humans would eat when entertaining their totally normal brother’s boyfriend in their totally normal family home/nursery. 

“I’ll watch Eri,” Touya offers, snatching Eri up off her seat and carrying her off in his arms, promising the young girl they’d watch some animal documentary. Watching Eri is not something that is really a required task but with the other three occupied that leaves Shouto to go deal with Fuyumi. Joy. 

Shouto is pretty sure the sun cursed him this morning. 

✿   ✿   ✿

“Please don’t rip out Touya-nii’s heart and use his corpse as fertilizer.” 

“I’m not gonna kill Touya,” Fuyumi sighs. 

“That’s good,” Shouto nods. Well, mission accomplished, time to go. 

“Nii-san looks happy, right?” Fuyumi asks, sighing as she leans against the window sill, eyes looking out the window and drifting over to where their neighbours’ property would be.

Shouto is well aware of his lacking skills when it comes to things like emotions and reading the room. But even he can tell Touya has been looking a little more chipper lately. As chipper as his gothic older brother can look. 

“Yeah,” Shouto agrees. 

“We should probably be supportive and stuff then, right?” Fuyumi sighs, her face looking like she just drank some bitter blood. 

“Yeah, probably,” Shouto agrees again, one step closer to resolving this issue and being able to flee. 

“Okay!” Fuyumi announces, voice full of conviction. “For Touya-nii’s happiness…I will tolerate that for the time being,” she nods her head decisively. “But if he skips any more of his shifts…” Fuyumi flips a spare hand shovel in her hand, catching it by the handle. It’s more menacing than it has any right to be. 

“Nee-san,” Shouto eyes the hand shovel warily, “I never skip any of my shifts, you know?” 

“Of course. Our Shouto is a good boy,” Fuyumi coos, ruffling Shouto’s hair as she exits the room. 

Crisis averted. For him, at least. 

✿   ✿   ✿

The first time Shotuo meets his brother’s new boyfriend, it’s a cloudy Thursday morning, several weeks after Touya made his initial announcement. He’s outside the shop, kneeling on the damp cement and tending to the potted plants on display. 

Only when he hears the sound of light footsteps stopping a couple of metres to his right does Shouto pause and look upwards. Beneath the brim of his flowery sun hat, Shouto sees a man hovering over him, all golden hair and piercing eyes and charming smile. 

“Hey there,” he waves at Shouto. Handsome, Shouto thinks. 

“Hello,” Shouto greets, impassive as usual. 

“Are you, by any chance, related to Dabi?” The mysterious man asks.

“Who?” Shouto blinks. But before he can receive any clarification, Touya is stomping up to them.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Touya demands.

“I live here.”

“Not you, ” Touya scowls at Shouto and turns to glare at the other man, who raises his hands in surrender.

“Visiting you, of course!” The man smiles goodnaturedly. 

“Are you Dabi?” Shouto asks his brother. 

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Touya scowls harder.

“It’s my first time calling you that.”

“Not you, Shouto,” Touya kicks at Shouto, nearly knocking him over. “You,” he glares at the mystery man. 

“I’m Keigo,” Keigo ignores Touya. “It’s nice to meet you, Shouto-kun,” he waves again. 

“I’m nice to meet,” Shouto nods, adjusting his sun hat. 

“Ugh, let’s go.” Shouto watches as Touya attempts to drag Keigo away, his skinny noodle arms failing him greatly. 

“See ya later, Shouto-kun!” Keigo calls as he allows himself to be dragged off by Touya. 

Later, Shouto tells Fuyumi that he possibly met Touya’s mysterious new boyfriend earlier. 

“He came here?” Fuyumi asks, eyes wide and nervous. 

“What’s he look like?” Nejire questions Shouto as well, her eyes glimmering with excitement though. “Is he nice? Does he look like a heartless vampire killer?” 

Shouto pauses to think, recalling the man’s golden hair and charming smile. “...He could probably do way better than Touya-nii.” 

He leaves his sister and Nejire to their gossip, his mind wandering to think about the other vampire hunters he knew. They didn’t exactly look like heartless vampire killers either, now that he thought about it...

✿   ✿   ✿

For the first time in a long time, Shouto paints something. He doesn’t quit after a few strokes or end up scribbling and re-scribbling endlessly in his sketchbook, doesn't get lost in the endless whirlpool of trying to motivate himself to start something only to get stuck when deciding on what to start.

This time, his motivation and energy don’t wane. He spends the late hours of the night with nothing but his canvas and acrylics to keep him company, taking practically no breaks, finishing up by mid-morning. 

Well, it’s supposed to be finished. 

But as he stares at the canvas, eyes glancing at the kneeling figure in the centre, the dark greens of the background, the pale off-white petals of the flowers, the earthy tones in the shadows…he feels as if something is missing. 

Shouto continues to stare, eyes roaming over every centimetre of the canvas, wondering what it is that’s missing. 

He feels like he’s losing his mind, stuck in his studio. Shouto takes a deep breath, standing up, and steps away from the canvas before he does something drastic and ruins the whole thing. 

He cracks his neck, rolling his right shoulder as he heads out of his studio, sliding the door shut behind him. The house is quiet, seemingly empty. Everyone else must be outside, tending to the plants, or if they’ve gotten lucky, helping out customers. 

Exiting the main house and walking through the shop front, Shouto heads outside. Near the front gate of their property, he finds Eri giggling merrily with Midoriya, his vampire hunter neighbour. 

Shouto sighs; he’s beginning to understand Fuyumi’s stress-induced exhaustion. 

He heads over, already hoping that his icy demeanour will be enough to shoo Midoriya away. 

(He ignores that little part of him that hopes it isn’t enough.)

“Eri—” Shouto stops a few metres away, still unnoticed by both Eri and Midoriya. Midoriya is crouching down to Eri’s level, not unlike the first time Shouto saw the two of them together. This time, however, Eri is the one reaching out to Midoriya, her small hands placing a ring of flowers on top of his head. It’s a flower crown made of daisies and Queen Anne’s Lace, the white flowers look even brighter next to the cool green tones of Midoriya’s hair and make his rosy cheeks look even pinker. 

Ah. Freckles. He didn’t get the freckles right, the image of his painting flashes in his mind. 

As if doused with ice water, Shouto breaks out of his thoughts, focusing on the present once more. That was the second time that his thoughts consisted of nothing but freckles and Shouto doesn’t want to dwell on that line of thinking anymore. 

“Eri-chan,” Shouto calls out louder this time, taking a few more strides to reach the two. He crouches down too, balancing himself behind Eri. So he’s not towering over the two of them. Not because Shouto has a better view of Midoriya and his flower crown from here. 

“Ah, Shouto-kun! How are you?” Midoriya smiles gaily, waving a hand at Shouto. Last time, Shouto had been distracted by the cutesy band-aids on Midoriya’s palm. But this time, he notices the copious scars that litre his hands and forearms, the pale white scars and the pink cuts that wrap around his knuckles. 

Shouto wonders how he got them. Probably hunting vampires, a stony and unkind voice echoes in his head. Oh, right…

“I’m fine," Shouto replies, pulling Eri closer to him under the pretense of a back hug, his chin resting on her narrow shoulder. 

“Oh!” Midoriya, leans forward slightly, “You have something—” He raises a hand to his own nose, tapping it with his index finger. Shouto raises a hand to his nose, fingers brushing over something with a slightly rough texture. 

“Ah. It’s paint.” Shouto rubs some of it off, the green paint flaking. 

“Nii-chan’s a painter!” Eri explains. “All his paintings are super pretty!” 

“Woah, really? That’s so cool!” Midoriya’s eyes sparkle in a way Shouto will never be able to capture in a mere painting. 

“Oi! Deku, the hell are you doing over here?” Smashing the serene moment, is Bakugou stomping over, kicking the metal gate open wider. 

“Kacchan!” Midoriya stands up, the tone of his voice scolding.

Bakugou ignores him, eyes zeroing in on Shouto and Eri, arms crossed and displeased scowl on his face. 

“So…you’re an artist?” Midoriya asks before Bakugou can say anything else. 

“Yeah,” Shouto looks back at Midoriya, heart beating irregularly when he notices the enthusiastic look on his face.  

“Deku-nii, what do you do?” Eri asks, innocent curiosity evident in her voice. See, Shouto knew they should have told Eri about their neighbours. But Fuyumi and Nejire insisted it would be ‘traumatizing’ for her. Amajiki added that it was traumatizing for him. Touya’s rebuttal of ‘trauma builds character’ was not well-received so in the end, they let Eri remain oblivious, only pleading for her to avoid the human neighbours. Advice that, evidently, Eri did not heed. 

“Oh, uh. Kacchan and I, um, we—” 

“We’re vampire hunters,” Bakugou butts in, tone as crude as ever. 

Eri stares blankly at the two of them, eyes darting between Midoriya and Bakugou. Her excitement fades, her usual impassiveness returning. Shouto pulls her a little closer. 

“Sounds dangerous,” Shouto says coolly. 

“Not if you’re good at it,” Bakugou smirks, an arrogant twinkle in his eye. 

“Kacchan,” Midoriya hisses, swatting at Bakugou’s leg. 

“Don’t touch me Deku— what the hell is on your head.” Bakugou’s anger dissipates into confusion as he properly looks at Midoriya for the first time since he arrived. 

“It’s a flower crown. Eri-chan made it for me!” Midoriya reaches a hand up to the flowers, smiling brightly. “Eri-chan is very talented,” he beams. Shouto feels Eri smile bashfully against his shoulder as she twists and buries her face against him. 

Bakugou continues to stare at Midoriya. “You look stupid,” he mutters after a moment, words not sounding convincing at all. 

“I can make one for you too,” Eri offers shyly. 

“Why would I want something like that?” Bakugou scowls, petulantly not looking at Midoriya. 

“Fine, I’ll make one for nii-chan instead,” Eri huffs, cheeks puffing up. She hugs Shouto around the neck, glaring at Bakugou, “He’s way prettier than you, anyway.” 

“She’s not wrong, Kacchan,” Midoriya whispers to Bakugou. Bakugou’s scowl deepens and his face turns red. Midoriya hides a smile behind his hand. The soft crinkles around his eyes expose him anyway. He’s probably just teasing Bakugou but Shouto pulls at his hair, suddenly self-conscious at the idea Midoriya thinks he’s pretty. How odd, he’s never given a second thought to anyone else’s praises of his beauty before.  

Eri insists she’s going to make Shouto the prettiest flower crown in existence and drags the three of them off. Shouto much later recalls, after an afternoon spent picking flowers and laying in the overgrown meadows outside their house, listening to Bakugou and Midoriya bicker away about everything under the sun, that he was supposed to get Eri away from the vampire hunters. 

Oops.

He adds today to the list of things that if Fuyumi doesn't know, won’t cause her considerable stress. 

✿   ✿   ✿

That night Shouto paints a scene of a meadow of cornflowers; the vibrant blues of the flowers standing out against the soft pinks and oranges of the morning sun in the background. Two figures dance in the meadow, their shadowy figures lithe and lively. There’s a warmth in the scene, something about it that makes Shouto’s chest feel funny. 

“I like it!” Nejire tells him the next morning, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the canvas sitting on the easel. “Let’s hang it up!” 

Shouto declines, wanting to keep this piece just for himself. 

✿   ✿   ✿

Shouto really wishes the stool at the front counter had a backrest. It doesn’t, though. It’s one of those ancient swivel bar stools that’s faded and squeaky and uncomfortable since it doesn’t even have a backrest which means Shouto has to slouch over the counter. He sighs, wondering why they haven’t replaced the old thing by now. 

He glances over to Eri, who sits on top of the counter, her back adequately supported by the cement wall behind her. Shouto’s a little jealous. 

Eri takes a large sip from her plastic juice box, the red liquid looking slightly purple inside the blue container. She has little butterfly clips in her hair today, two on both sides of her head. Of course, she had insisted Shouto match with her so Shouto allowed her to place a heart-shaped hairpin on him, pulling the red side of his hair back. Eri doesn’t get excited or visibly happy about many things but she gives Shouto a satisfied nod afterwards so Shouto keeps the clip in his hair.

He forgets about it, for the most part, until the front door chimes and the neighbours are entering the shop once again. 

The briefest glimpse of Midoriya and Bakugou and Shouto suddenly recalls exactly what side the hair clip is on. He yanks it out and smooths the red strands down so they mostly cover his scar once again, just as Uraraka bounces up to the counter, Midoriya and Bakugou trailing behind her. 

“Hello,” Shouto says, voice calm and collected. If only his heart would get the memo. An accelerated heartbeat is never good for a vampire, it uses up the consumed blood circulating through them and makes them hungrier for more blood, faster. And if Shouto’s appetite seems to be bigger these days? Well, no one has mentioned it so far. 

“Hello, Shouto-kun!” Uraraka greets him. “What a lovely morning we’re having, isn’t it?”

“It’s the afternoon,” Shouto states, watching as Uraraka very unsubtly peeks behind Shouto, eyes roaming the back area, searching for something. Shouto doesn't know what though, because all that’s behind him is the door to the backroom and the door that leads to the rest of the house. And a poster of Mirko eating a carrot because that was apparently enough of a thematic connection to their nursery to warrant putting up. “Are you looking for something in particular?” 

“The weather is great,” Uraraka nods, clearly not having heard what Shouto said at all. 

“Ahh,” Midoriya shoots Shouto an apologetic look, sliding next to a distracted Uraraka and snapping his fingers in front of her face. Uraraka blinks, eyes refocusing as she smiles sheepishly at Shouto. Behind them, Bakugou glares at some daffodils. “Hi there, Shouto-kun. Eri-chan,” he waves at Eri, who waves back, wiggling her fingers. “Ochako was wondering if Nejire-san was around, maybe?” 

“Deku!” Uraraka hisses, flushing as she elbows Midoriya. 

“Would you like me to call her here?” Shouto asks. Nejire could come down and deal with them while Shouto could escape from the prison that is this uncomfortable bar stool. 

“Yes? No? Umm,” Uraraka sends a panicked look at Midoriya who nods encouragingly. 

“Eri, go get Nejire-nee,” Shouto pokes Eri’s knee. 

Eri jumps off the counter and heads to the back door and then, at the top of her little lungs, yells, “Onee-chan!” Both Uraraka and Midoriya jump a little and Bakugou whips his head towards the tiny loudspeaker also known as Eri-chan while Shouto maintains a straight face. Professionalism, you know? 

Satisfied, apparently, Eri hops back up onto the counter and continues to sip her blood. 

“She should be here soon,” Eri clarifies for them. And sure enough, in a few seconds, quick footsteps are heard and Nejire pops her head from the back door. 

“Eri-chan, what is it— oh, Ochako-chan!” Nejire instantly brightens up when she notices who’s at the front counter. “What brings you here?” Nejire skips over, her purplish-blue hair bouncing in its high-ponytail. 

Shouto doesn’t hear whatever stammered response Uraraka provides since he’s too busy trying not to stare at Midoriya. In the process, his eyes land on Bakugou and it feels kinda like deja vu, except this time Bakugou isn’t glaring at him, but Eri instead. 

“Hey, kid,” Bakugou says, catching Eri’s attention. “Whatcha drinking?” 

“Cranberry juice,” Eri answers, not a hint of emotion on her face. She pauses for a moment before decidedly staring Bakugou in the eyes. “Bitch,” she adds. 

Bakugou is, somewhat understandably, enraged. 

“K-Kacchan, she’s six,” Midoriya’s hands hover in between the two, nervous and hesitant, as Bakugou seethes and Eri continues to stare at him impassively. Nejire and Uraraka have moved further away from the counter and Shouto vaguely hears something about spring blossoms and skin complexions but he has no idea what that means but it is clear they are lost in their own little world. 

“Eri, that’s not very nice,” Shouto says half-heartedly, for the sake of appearances. 

“We should totally go shopping together,” he hears Nejire gush, as she ushers Uraraka out the door. “Ochako-chan you’re so adorable, you’d look amazing in spring pastels.” Uraraka blushes and laughs nervously, cheeks even rosier than usual. Nejire catches Shouto’s eyes right before she leaves. She shoots him a wink and a thumbs up and then she’s gone. 

And now Shouto is left to deal with both Midoriya and Bakugou. He wonders if they’re going to leave now that Ochako has eloped with Nejire. However, Eri is sitting up on her knees on the counter, rifling through her collection of hair clips and placing a bunny-shaped clip in Midoriya’s hair. The yellow hair clip pulls back a bit of his wavy hair, the ends curling up softly. 

“You can’t have any,” Eri informs Bakugo. Bakugou’s head whips from Midoriya’s hair clip to Eri, eyes narrowed and an irritated look crossing his face. 

It is very humorous how worked up Bakugou is getting over the petty words of a six-year-old. But Eri’s vocabulary has certainly been getting more colourful in the presence of Bakugou and he just knows it’s somehow going to be his fault if his mom hears Eri calling someone a ‘bitch ass loser’ next time they visit. 

So, Shouto intervenes before Bakugou can officially declare war on Eri. 

“Here,” Shouto reaches over the counter towards Bakugou. “You can have this one.” And the places the heart-shaped clip he had pocketed earlier into Bakugou’s hair. The blonde spikes are softer than he thought they’d be, like summer dandelions. 

Bakugou stares at Shouto, his face slowly turning pink as Shouto lowers his hands. His cheeks remind Shouto of apples, all shiny and reddish-pink. Bakugou has nice skin, Shouto notes, all smooth and soft-looking. 

The sound of Midoriya’s muffled laughter shakes Shouto out of his thoughts. Midoriya hides his face, giggling quietly while Eri scrunches her nose up at Bakugou but doesn't verbalize any complaints about her hair clip being in his hair. 

“Hey!” Bakugou tears his eyes away from Shouto, glaring at Midoriya. “You laughing at me, Deku?” 

“No,” Midoriya lies, a peel of laughter escaping him. Bakugou looks like he wants to throw something at Midoriya but restrains himself.

“Oh,” Shouto suddenly remembers something he wanted to ask. “Do you work with someone named Keigo?” He recalls the handsome golden-haired man that was apparently dating his brother. Shouto, admittedly, has been dragged into the gossip ring Nejire and Fuyumi are running, along with Amajiki. Touya has never answered a question sincerely in his life so getting information out of him is pretty much useless. But he did say his boyfriend was a hunter from next door, so Bakugou and Midoriya must know him, right?

“Hawks-san?” Midoriya tilts his head, laughter finally ceasing. “Ah, did he come over here too?” Shouto nods in confirmation, storing the title Hawks away into his memory. He’s heard that high-ranking vampire hunters have code names of sorts. 

“Dumbass is our boss,” Bakugou adds with a roll of his eyes. “Why, he annoy the shit out of you or something?” Shouto thinks back to the brief thirty seconds in which he encountered Keigo. He was friendly and nice to look at and most importantly made Touya all flustered. That wasn’t an easy feat. 

“No, he didn’t annoy me,” Shouto says. “He’s dating my brother though.”

“What!?” Both Bakugou and Midoriya’s eyes widen, nearly identical looks of shock on their faces. 

“Touya, my eldest brother,” Shouto explains. “Did you two not know?” Shouto’s boss is his big sister so he’s not aware of what normal employee-boss relations look like. Perhaps discussing his personal life was out of character for Touya’s boyfriend. 

“So, that’s why that airhead has been so shifty lately,” Bakugou mutters, eyes narrowed. “Wait, that skinny delinquent emo is your brother?” He looks back up to Shouto, tilting his head slightly like he’s trying to piece Shouto and Touya’s resemblance together. 

“Kacchan,” Midoriya chides softly but Shouto is not particularly offended by the description of his brother. 

“Yes,” Shouto confirms. “Although, he’s goth, not emo,” Shouto corrects with utmost sincerity. Bakugou simply rolls his eyes and scoffs; there might even be a hint of a smile on his face. 

“We had no idea they were, um, together,” Midroiya runs a hand through his hair. It’s easy to tell there are about a million questions racing through his mind, if the quiet muttering is any indication. By the sound of it, Touya’s boyfriend aka Hawks-san has been slacking on his duties lately, been disappearing at odd hours, and humming peppy idol songs more often. Shouto is once again left bewildered as to why and how someone like that ended up dating someone like his brother. 

“Can I meet Touya-nii’s boyfriend too?” Eri asks. 

“Ask Touya-nii,” Shouto shrugs. The conversation around Touya and his boyfriend ceases when Midoriya quits his rambling and cheerily asks Shouto about his day, not at all put off by Shouto’s brief and blunt answers. Eventually, Bakugou and Midoriya head out, Eri’s clips still in their hair. 

Guess Shouto will just have to see them another time to get them back. 

✿   ✿   ✿

Shouto really has no clue how he got into this situation. Honestly. His only plans for the day were to sleep, in fact. But somehow, he ends up here: at an aquarium, with Eri. And Midoriya and Bakugou. And Nejire and Uraraka, although those two slipped away almost as soon as they received their admission bands, leaving Shouto to not only watch Eri but to converse with his weirdo-vampire-hunting neighbours. 

Shouto tugs at the paper admission band wrapped around his wrist and adjusts the baseball cap on his head. Both Midoriya and Bakugou had acted oddly when they first met up; alternating between avoiding his gaze and glancing back at him. Midoriya nervously explained it was because he’d never seen Shouto in anything other than his faded work jeans and vintage-y sweaters and cardigans. Bakugou said it was because Shouto looked like a wannabe-celebrity with his dark outfit, ripped jeans, and black baseball cap. He would have worn sunglasses as well but it was fortunately cloudy out today. 

Currently, he’s standing in front of a large tank that hosts several brightly coloured fish that swim past the glass display, Midoriya and Bakugou to his left and Eri pressed close up against the glass. 

Midoriya and Eri look excited, eyes wide and sparkling, while Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Shouto wonders why he came along. Because, Shouto was dragged along because of Eri, and Midoriya probably came since he’s a good friend to Uraraka and actually enjoys being in public places like this, but what reason would Bakugou have to come here?

Shouto stares at the blonde some more, trying to piece together the peculiar and confusing puzzle of a person he was, only for Bakugou to glance over at Shouto as well. Shouto’s stomach feels funny at the thought of being caught staring so unabashedly. It feels even funnier when he realizes Bakugou isn’t glaring or scowling like he normally does. He just looks at Shouto with a curious gleam in his eyes. His face is kinda nice when he’s not scowling, Shouto thinks. 

Well, that’s a weird thought to have when you’re staring at someone’s face, so Shouto looks away and heads towards Eri. He crouches down next to her and lets Eri tell him the names and species of various types of fish and pretends he can’t feel Bakugou’s eyes watching him still. 

“Wow, Eri-chan sure knows a lot about fish, huh?” Midoriya praises, crouching on Eri’s other side. 

“I read the pamphlets,” Eri nods.

Midoriya’s eyes meet Shouto’s and he smiles brightly at him, green eyes all bright and shiny and oh my god, can both of them stop looking at him? Shouto tugs his hat down further, hiding his eyes. 

Thankfully, Eri is done with this exhibit and tugs on Shouto’s fingers to lead him to the next one. Midoriya and Bakugou follow closely behind and Shouto, still feeling weird and tingly from being looked at so much, closes off any opportunity for small talk by pulling out his phone and texting Nejire, letting her know their current location.

Nejire-chanヾ(❀╹◡╹)ﾉﾞ

→ ochako-chan and i are looking at the sea otters!

→ they’re so cute!! so is ochako-chan uwu 

right. ←

 but we should leave soon ←

what if they want to get lunch afterwards? ←

→ i don’t wanna leave so quickly though :( 

→ can’t you just force down some food 1 time? pwease 🥺

Fuyumi-nee will be mad if she knows we fed eri-chan human food ←

Also i don’t want to ←

→ Boooo

→ Fine we’ll leave before lunch

→ enjoy your date in the meanwhile shou-chan!! \ (*＾▽＾)／

Date…? ←

Nejire doesn’t respond after that. She’s probably too distracted by the sea otters or Uraraka or both. Hopefully, she remembers to leave before any plans for lunch can be made. Shouto really does not want to force down human food, especially in public. Besides, Nejire and he may be able to push past the ashy taste and keep their nausea at bay, but Eri is still young and would probably get sick after a few bites. Cleaning up vomit sounds even less appealing than human food.

Shouto sighs, putting his phone away. The word date echoes in his head again. Nejire is probably just teasing him. Maybe? Nejire doesn't usually tease him though, not in the way his brothers do. He’s pretty sure he’s not on a date, though. Most people don’t bring children on their dates. Isn’t that why Nejire and Uraraka slipped away in the first place? Also, people probably don’t go on dates with their strange neighbours who could potentially stab them in the heart and kill them. Probably. 

Shouto shakes his head, ridding himself of those ridiculous thoughts. Eri has dragged them to this large tunnel, the tank curving high above their heads. It’s nearly empty in the tunnel; the four of them being the only people at the exhibit currently.

It’s darker too, the water from within the tank casting a bluish glow in the area. Eri stands close to the glass, watching as a shark swims by, eyes tracking it as it disappears into the shadowy depths of the tank. Midoriya tugs on Bakugou’s sleeve, pointing upwards with his other hand, gesturing for Bakugou to look at something. 

Shouto doesn’t know what though, he’s too busy watching the way the light reflecting through the water illuminates Bakugou and Midoriya in this glimmering, bluish glow, the way shadows float across their faces when something swims by. In the cool light, Bakugou’s hair looks silvery and white, and somehow less spiky than usual. It’s strange, seeing Bakugou so calm, letting Midoriya continue to latch on to him, and even glancing down at Midoriya with a look that Shouto can only describe as fond. Midoriya has that excited sparkle in his eye, the one that always makes Shouto think of fairies and sugar plums. The lighting makes his hair look more blue-toned, like streaks of turquoise electricity are shining around him as he continues to gasp in delight at whatever he and Bakugou are looking at.

Shouto has no clue how long he’s been looking; it feels like he’s under a spell, unable to look away, totally enchanted by the sight before him. So enchanted he doesn’t even realize he’s taken his phone out again to take a picture until the shutter sound goes off, effectively breaking the spell, and Midoriya and Bakugou are looking his way. 

Shouto glances at his phone, very clearly aimed at the two of them. He then glances up at Bakugou and Midoriya, both of them looking up at him in varying degrees of suspicion and confusion. 

“Lighting reference,” Shouto says easily, mentally thanking whatever force on earth allows him to maintain a blank look so easily. It’s probably the genes from his mother’s side. He makes a note to call his mom and thank her later.

“Hey,” Eri walks up to them. Right, she’s still here too. “Did you forget about me?” She asks, tilting her head to the side. 

“Of course not, Eri-chan!,” Midoriya says earnestly the same time Bakugou mutters a disgruntled ‘I wish.’  

Eri hears him anyway, because she’s a vampire with enhanced hearing and also because Bakugou really sucks at being quiet and subtle. 

“Did you know?” Eri pulls Midoriya and Bakugou closer to the tank, “Sharks can’t actually smell a drop of blood from a mile away. They can only detect as little as one part per million of blood in water. So, to smell you from a mile away, you’d have to lose a lot of blood and would die from blood loss before the shark even found you. How would you rather die? Blood loss or shark bites?”

“Uh…” Midoriya lets out a nervous laugh glancing at Bakugou who looks equally perturbed and Shouto can't really blame them.

Touya-nii, please stop buying Eri books about predators of the animal kingdom...

“Anyway, Carcharodon carcharias and Galeocerdo cuvier have the largest olfactory bulbs—”  

As they exit the tunnel, Bakugou yanks Midoriya closer and whispers in his ear, “That kid is fucking weird, Deku, I’m telling you.”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya whispers back, “if you’re scared of her, it’s okay. You can tell me. I won’t judge.” Bakugou scowls and pinches Midoriya’s cheek, but doesn’t shove him away. 

Shouto is very grateful Eri is here to steal his attention away from Bakugou and Midoriya, knowing nothing good would come out of Shouto’s inexplicable fascination with watching them.  

✿   ✿   ✿

When they meet up with Nejire and Uraraka again, Nejire drags them to the gift shop, insisting on getting souvenirs. Once they enter the shop, Nejire’s eyes immediately latch onto the plush shark hats that are neatly lined up on a wall-length shelf. 

She grabs one off the shelf, snatches Shouto’s baseball hat, and pulls the shark hat over his head (Shouto graciously lowering his head to make it easier for her), closing the velcro strap under his chin and gasping with delight.

“It’s perfect, you have to get it!” Nejire gushes, hopping in place. 

“Shark hats!” Uraraka cheers, latching onto Nejire’s arm as they peruse the shelf of hats. 

“Like hell I’m wearing that!” Bakugou growls behind him, glaring at Uraraka. Nejire and Uraraka discuss getting matching pink shark hats while Uraraka and Midoriya also try to convince Bakugou to get one as well. Meanwhile, Shouto crouches down so Eri can inspect the softness and huggability of his shark hat. 

“Do you want one?” Shouto asks as she squishes the shark’s nose. 

“Can I get a book on jellyfish, instead?” Eri asks, pointing to the corner where the books and stationery are located. Shouto heads over to the book section with Eri and as the young girl browses through the marine life encyclopedias, Shouto glances over to the others. Somehow, they’ve managed to get a shark hat on Bakugou’s head. Predictably, he looks furious, face flushing with repressed anger as the other three ooh and ahh over him. 

Shouto hides a smile in his shoulder, undoing the velcro and removing the shark hat. He runs his hand through his hair, shaking it so his bangs fall loosely over his forehead.  

Looking back over to the others, he catches both Midoriya and Bakugou watching him and he suddenly feels like one of the animals on display in the exhibits. The hand in his hair stills as Shouto ponders over what he’s supposed to do in this scenario. Luckily he doesn’t need to do anything since Eri is tugging on his sleeve and tells him she’s made her choice on what book to get. 

Children really are a great way to avoid participating in social interactions. 

✿   ✿   ✿

“And then we visited the manta rays and I got to touch one. It was slimy. Then we went to the gift shop and Shouto-nii got me this book. It’s got stickers, see?” 

“Wow,” Touya hums appreciatively, listening to Eri’s retelling of today’s events with that awed interest adults are supposed to show children. “Can I have a sticker, too?” Shouto lays on the couch next to Touya and Eri, legs hanging off the edge of the armrest. Eri sits on Touya’s lap while Shouto’s head rests against his brother’s thigh. He absentmindedly listens to Eri showing off her new book and meticulously chooses a sticker to give Touya. In the other room, he can hear Nejire enthusiastically gushing to Amajiki, recounting the details of her day with Uraraka. She’s even more excited than Eri.  

He squishes the pink shark hat Nejire bought him in his hands. Shouto’s fingers itch to take out his phone and look at the picture of Midoriya and Bakugou. He doesn’t though. Not yet. Today had been exhausting, but fun. He wants to do something similar again, maybe just him, Midoriya, and Bakugou next time though. He wonders if they’d agree to that. 

He sighs, hugging the shark hat to his chest. 

A bit later, Touya’s phone buzzes and Shouto watches a soft look morph on his brother’s face as he reads the message. Even Shouto can guess who’s texting him. 

His brother’s presence, once perfect for Shouto to mope and sulk in, has spoiled. Shouto sits upright and gets up, not wishing to be exposed to any more of Touya’s gross and unsubtle honey-eyed gaze or soft, dulcet smiles. 

In the other room, Nejire’s bubbly chatter mingles with Fuyumi and Amajiki’s gentle laughter. Another no-go. Shouto heads directly for his studio, closing all the blinds and flopping directly onto his chaise. 

Honestly. You’d think a house full of vampires would be a little more brooding-friendly. 

✿   ✿   ✿

It’s been busier at the nursery lately, now that June is approaching. More and more customers are coming in to get seeds and saplings to plant in time for the summer season. Thankfully, Shouto has the day off. Usually, his days off consist of taking extended naps and watching cat videos on his phone in a poorly lit corner of the house. But, to the surprise of his entire household, today Shouto woke up early and made plans to go out to town to buy more art supplies. Perhaps the increasingly cheerful attitude of his family was spreading to him too. 

He steps into the kitchen and grabs a pouch of A-positive blood from the fridge, slurping it noisily. Touya sits at the kitchen table, Eri right next to him, and shoots him a look. Shouto is unsure if it’s because he’s awake so early on his day off or because he’s drinking the blood cold. Most vampires prefer their blood somewhere between room temperature and warm, especially if it’s undiluted, but Shouto likes drinking it when it’s cold and viscous. 

“What’s got you so peppy this early?” Touya asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“I’m going out,” Shouto shrugs. 

“Where?” 

“To town. Might go for a run.” Touya hums noncommittal but he still has that suspicious look in his eyes. 

“Nii-chan and I are gonna plant tomatoes today,” Eri supplies when the room settles into silence for a beat too long. 

“And they’re going to be the best tomatoes in existence,” Touya declares, despite probably never having eaten a tomato in his whole life. Touya and Eri pour over some magazine that features different types of tomatoes, rating how tomato-y each type looks. Shouto finishes off his blood and heads out. 

The dewy morning air greets Shouto once he steps outside. The chill of April still lingers into May, partly cloudy skies and a light breeze. Shouto bends down to adjust the laces on his runners, brushing some dust off his black leggings. It’s cool enough that he can wear a long-sleeve shirt and throw some loose shorts over a pair of leggings and he won’t draw too much attention. Shouto pulls on a baseball hat in case the skies clear up later on, tucking his bangs back. His hair is getting kinda long, bangs easily tucking behind his ears; maybe a haircut is overdue. Eri and Nejire seem to enjoy playing with his hair at its current length, though.  

Shouto pushes past the metal gate and exits the property. He jogs along the dirt and gravel, ankles skimming the overgrown grass that grows along the side of the path. He only makes it 30 or so metres before he spots someone on the side of the path, where the dirt and gravel connect to a proper cement road, crouching next to a slick black motorcycle. The spiky blonde hair is a dead giveaway as to whom the figure is. 

Shouto slows down, glancing to his right and spotting a stone path that leads to his neighbours' house. Shouto only has a vague recollection of what the old building looks like. He wonders how it’s changed now that people have moved into it. 

Bakugou doesn’t seem to have noticed Shouto yet. Should he walk up and say hello or just jog past? Both actions will likely result in Bakugou yelling at him. A true conundrum. In the time that Shouto spends nulling over his choices, Bakugou looks up and notices Shouto and makes the choice for him. 

“Hey, Half’n’Half. What the hell are you doing just standing there?” Shouto refocuses his attention on Bakugou, who’s standing now. His eyes rake over Bakugou’s figure, taking in the ripped jeans and combat boots, the tight-fitting black shirt and shiny leather jacket. It’s as if someone’s searched for hot biker outfit on Pinterest. 

And here Shouto is in athletic leggings and a pair of pastel pink running shorts his sister bought for herself but ended up being a couple sizes too big, leading to her handing them off to Shouto. At least his (Nejire’s) hat matches the shorts. 

“Good morning,” Shouto greets. “Is that your bike?” 

“Obviously,” Bakugou rolls his eyes and leans against the seat of the bike, arms crossed. “Nice outfit, Strawberry Shortcake.” Bakugou’s eyes travel from Shouto’s head to his toes. 

“Thank you,” Shouto says with a courteous smile, customer service instincts kicking in. At least his face doesn’t match his shorts too. Although Bakugou’s cheeks are tainted a rosy colour. Maybe it’s warmer out than Shouto realized? “Well, I was headed downtown so good—” 

“You want a ride?” Bakugou cuts him off. Shouto blinks, watching as Bakugou’s cheeks flush darker and he looks off to the side with a stubborn scowl on his face. “Well? ” He bites out when Shouto doesn’t say anything. 

A ride? On Bakugou’s motorcycle? Sounds like a bad idea, say no— “Okay.”

He isn’t sure who’s more surprised, Bakugou or himself. Bakugou quickly overcomes it though, surprised features quickly morphing back into his regular scowl.

“Get on already, then,” He barks, swinging a leg over the seat to sit. Shouto steps closer, suddenly realizing what exactly getting on entails. But before he can attempt to clamber on behind Bakugou, a helmet is thrust into his stomach. Bakugou is pulling his helmet, a glassy and dark one, over his head. 

“Do I have to?” Shouto asks, not looking forward to squishing his face into the uncomfortable-looking headgear. Shouto can’t see Bakugo’s face, not when he has that dark visor covering it, but the death glare can be felt anyway. Shouto huffs a little, pulling off his baseball cap and tugs on the helmet, slipping into his seat behind Bakugou. 

“Quit your pouting. You wanna crack your skull open against the pavement?” Bakugou chides. 

“Why? You a bad driver?” 

“I’m the fucking best!” Bakugou shouts, starting the motorcycle and revving the engine. The sound and vibrations startle Shouto and he grips Bakugou’s shoulders, fingers tightening around the smooth leather material. 

“Don’t fall off,” are Bakugou’s only instructions before they’re taking off. 

They’re going fast. A lot faster than Shouto expected. And Shouto knows fast, he’s got enhanced speed and everything. But something about the engine’s vibration and the sound of the tires spinning on the road makes Shouto’s stomach flip, like swinging too high on a swing set. His grip on Bakugou’s shoulders doesn’t seem secure enough, not along the curvy cliffside road, and Shouto finds his arms winding around Bakugou’s middle, clinging on a tiny bit tighter when Bakugou speeds up some more. Even over the sound of the loud engine and the whooshing of the wind, Shouto’s hearing picks up Bakugou’s amused huff when Shouto holds on to him tighter in a brief fit of panic. 

Eventually, Shouto gets used to the unfamiliar rhythm of the motorcycle and begins to relax, no longer jumping when Bakugou suddenly speeds up or the engine gets louder. Turns out, Bakugou’s confidence in his driving skills wasn’t unfound; he handles the bike with expertise, tackling turns and curves and uphills with experienced ease. Shouto even began to enjoy himself, admiring the blurring scenery through the visor on his helmet. 

It’s nice. Much better than going for a run, anyway. 

✿   ✿   ✿

The trip to town is uneventful, but Shouto enjoys himself nonetheless. 

They had reached the denser part of town sooner than Shouto expected. His legs had felt a little shaky stepping off the bike but Shouto was glad to be rid of the helmet. Surprisingly enough, Bakugou had followed him into the quaint little art store that Shouto visits. After that, they headed back and Shouto was left wondering why Bakugou offered him a ride if he had no errands to run himself. 

Various thoughts about Bakugou, and then adjacently Midoriya, occupy Shouto’s mind the whole ride back. He hardly even notices when Bakugou pulls up to his house. 

“Oh,” Shouto belatedly slides off the bike, taking his helmet off for the second time. “Thank you for—” 

“Lunch,” Bakugou interrupts him. “We’re having lunch. You should come,” he elaborates when Shouto blinks in confusion. 

“Lunch...” Shouto echoes, mind slowly processing Bakugou’s invitation. 

“Shit. Wait. You can’t—” 

“Okay,” Shouto interrupts Bakugou this time. 

“Okay?” Bakugou looks a little surprised. 

“Unless you’re rescinding your invitation?” Shouto raises an eyebrow. 

“No, I offered already, didn’t I?” Bakugou scowls again, cheeks flushing with what Shouto imagines is a mixture of embarrassment and anger. A classic Bakugou combo. 

Thus, Shouto follows Bakugou through the creaky front gate, entering his neighbour's house for the time. His vampire hunting neighbours. Who just invited him to lunch, which he cannot eat. Because he’s a vampire.

Fuyumi is going to be so mad.  

✿   ✿   ✿

Lunch consists of various dishes that Shouto vaguely recognizes. While he’s no expert on human lunch rituals, the whole array of food seems a bit extravagant. The teasing oohs and woooows Uraraka sends Bakugou as he sets the numerous side dishes on the table seems to confirm Shouto’s initial impression. 

Shouto shuffles his chair closer to the table, sitting in the perfect, straight posture his mother drilled into him during his human etiquette lessons as a child. Next to him, Midoriya claps his hands together in delight, eyes roaming over all the fragrant dishes. Uraraka sits across from Midoriya, Bakugou across from Shouto. 

“Itadakimasu!” Midoriya and Uraraka clasp their hands together and cheer in unison, Bakugou grumbling his own more quietly. Shouto simply stares contemplatively at the food before him. 

“It looks…” Revolting, nauseating, making me regret every decision ever. “Good,” Shouto settles on. 

“Kacchan is a great cook!” Midoriya smiles at Shouto. “Wait,” his smile drops, a confused look crossing his face. “Can you— can he?” He looks over at Bakugou and Uraraka. Uraraka shrugs, grabbing some grilled meat. Bakugou smirks a little, adjusting his chopsticks.

Shouto has no time to figure out what they’re talking about, too busy psyching himself up to take a bite of a spoonful of rice. It doesn’t taste as bad as Shouto remembers human food being. But even if he can handle the taste, he knows if he eats this much food his stomach will most definitely protest. 

Thankfully, no one around him comments on his slow bites and petite portions. They all dig in with gusto though and Shouto is astonished at how much food humans can pack away. By the time lunch is wrapping up, Shouto is feeling thoroughly not good. 

“Dessert?” Uraraka asks, glancing around at everyone. 

“No, thank you,” Shout says immediately. “I’m...full.” 

“Fucking stupid is what you are,” Bakugou mutters under his breath, already getting up and picking up the empty dishes. Shouto’s stomach tightens, a spike of pain stabbing his gut, hard enough to make him visibly wince. 

“Shouto-kun, are you okay?” Midiroiya asks, eyes full of worry.

“I’m fine. I should go now, I have work,” Shouto lies. “Thank you for lunch,” Shouto lies again. They bid him farewell, looks of amusement and guilt (?) on everyone’s faces.  

Shouto makes it to the front gate of the nursery before he’s throwing up. That’s how Touya finds him, heaving over the side of the brick wall, hot tears blurring his vision. 

“You absolute dummy,” Touya sighs, exasperated, patting Shouto’s back lightly. “You done?” 

Shouto stands up straighter, wiping at his watery eyes. He blinks at Touya, frowning a little. 

“What happened to your hair?” He asks, voice hoarse. Gone is Touya’s spiky black dye-job, replaced by soft white locks that gently ruffle in the wind. 

“Wanted a change,” Touya shrugs, guiding Shouto back into the house. 

“You look like Mom,” Shouto says, slightly delirious from exhaustion. “But happier.” 

“I look happy?” Touya blinks, opening the side door. 

“Yeah,” Shouto nods, leaning against his brother’s shoulder. 

“Huh,” Touya clicks his tongue. “Guess I am.” 

Shouto wants to say something about how he’s glad his brother found happiness but as soon as he steps inside, Shouto passes out, darkness invading his mind. 

✿   ✿   ✿

When Shouto wakes up, he’s hungry. For blood, not human food, which is disgusting and awful in every way imaginable. His fangs are sharpened, the desire to bite flesh and suck blood strong. He doesn’t get to bite anything though, not when there’s a straw and pouch being shoved in his face as soon as he sits up. 

“Drink up,” Fuyumi instructs as Shouto accepts the pouch of blood, cradling it with both hands and taking long sips. Fuyumi adjusts the blankets that pool around his legs, smoothing them around his waist. As soon as Shouto finishes the first pouch, he’s handed a second one, this time drinking it slower. 

It’s dark in the room, the bedside lamp the only source of light. Shouto wonders how long he was out for. 

“Feeling better?” Fuyumi asks him, smiling a little when Shouto nods his head. “You really are a dummy, aren’t you?” She shakes her head, pulling at Shouto’s cheek. 

“Sorry,” Shouto mumbles, shoulders drooping. Fuyumi wrings her fingers together, like she wants to say something. 

“Get some rest,” is what she tells Shouto though, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She picks up the empty blood pouches and turns the lamp off, enveloping the room in near-darkness. 

Just before she leaves, Fuyumi pauses. 

“Shouto,” she says, voice quiet and soft. “I’m glad you’ve made some friends.” And then she quietly slips out the door, leaving Shouto alone in the dark, with only his thoughts to preoccupy him. 

He lies down again, adjusting the blanket over himself. He thinks over lunch with Midoriya and Bakugou, the motorcycle ride with Bakugou, playing with flowers in the field with Midoriya and Eri. 

He doesn't regret it. Not the lunch. Not a single moment he spent with Midoriya and Bakugou, despite their occupation being one which eradicates his kind. Not really. Not when he wishes he were able to have lunch and dinner, go get coffee, and do all those other strange things people seem to do, to do them all with Midoriya and Bakugou. 

Shouto sighs, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. 

He misses them. And he hates hiding from them. 

He hates that humans are so afraid of vampires and hunt them down even when most of them are just like Shouto’s family, living peacefully among other humans. He thinks of Eri, who wasn’t even a year old when a radical group of vampire slayers killed her biological family. 

But not all of them are like Shouto and his family. Some vampires are immoral and depraved. They attack humans, killing them, turning them against their will. Vampire hunters are necessary in that sense, he supposes. 

He really wishes, so selfishly wishes, Midoriya and Bakugou weren’t vampire hunters though. 

✿   ✿   ✿ 

Something Shouto is quite certain of is that vampires know a lot more about vampire hunters than vampire hunters do of vampires. It’s for that reason that vampires can (somewhat) easily hide within human society. 

Vampire hunters work in groups of four to six hunters. Intel gathering, covert ops, raids...hunters work in efficient and coordinated teams to get the job done. And considering the high-risk nature of the job, only the cream of the crop makes it to becoming official vampire hunters. Due to the limited number of available members, vampire hunters don’t tend to stick around in one place for too long, especially not small towns. Most of the fighting happens in the bigger cities, taking down gangs or rogue vampires. 

So really, it should come as no surprise to Shouto when his peculiar vampire-hunting neighbours move away. Realistically, even staying for the entirety of spring was bizarre enough. Why stay in this quiet little town when there are rumours of an underground vampire fighting ring in Osaka? 

“So, yeah. We’ll be leaving. Soon-ish,” Midoriya finishes his explanation. It really was not what Shouto had been expecting when Midoriya and Bakugou paid him a visit that sunny June afternoon. It suddenly feels much warmer in the small greenhouse, the air feeling humid and stifling. Shouto pulls his sunhat lower, shielding his eyes. 

“Oh,” is all he can manage to say. He continues his task, gently placing a marigold into the soft dirt, as he allows the information to soak in. He can’t seem to find any words to say after that though. 

What is he supposed to say anyway? Stay safe? Good luck? Don’t go, please?

Midoriya wrings his fingers together and Bakugou kicks at a pebble on the ground. A heavy silence hangs over the three of them and it’s no longer just the heat that’s stifling. Shouto’s gloved fingers brush over the petals of the marigold. They’re a vibrant orangey-yellow colour. Once they’re in the sun though, the approaching summer heat will surely dry them up in a matter of weeks. And then Shouto will plant some more. Or maybe plant something different. Either way, Shouto will surely have something else to plant, will definitely see new flowers bloom. 

“Oh,” Shouto says again, this time in remembrance though. “Tell me your new address when you get there. I’ll write to you.” 

“Write to us? What are you, some old lady?” Bakugou raises an eyebrow. 

“No, I’m a year younger than you,” Shouto states, recalling their weeks-old conversation about birthdays. Eri, despite her mutually antagonistic relationship with Bakugou, had been distressed at the fact the blonde’s birthday had come and gone without her knowledge and gifted Bakugou a small powder puff cactus as a belated birthday present. 

Bakugou makes a strangled sound of sorts and looks upwards at the sky, pinching the bridge of his nose; Midoriya shakes his head with an amused huff. 

“You’d really write to us? I’ve never gotten an actual letter before!” Midoriya’s eyes sparkle, looking less melancholic now. 

“You can just use your phone, you know. Like a normal person,” Bakugou grumbles but Shouto can see the glimmer in his eyes, something that looks dangerously close to anticipation, maybe even hopefulness. 

Shouto thinks of the letters he sends his mother, his neat penmanship dancing across novelty stationery, the occasional pressed flower or sticker attached to the bottom. He thinks of the letters he receives back from her, careful ink on smooth pages and the comforting way they become faded and worn with time. 

“Yeah, I will,” Shouto says. It feels like the promise extends to more than just the letters and it makes saying ‘goodbye’ a little easier. Just a little. 

✿   ✿   ✿

A blank canvas stares at Shouto, a crisp white rectangle in a well-lit room on a sunny summer afternoon. This time, Shouto knows exactly what he wishes to paint. 

His hands move the exact way he wants them to, his paintbrush gliding easily across the canvas. Stroke by stroke, the piece comes together just as he imagined. Soft pinks and baby blues, deep lavenders and pale lilacs blending together, feathery clouds hanging above a pastel spectrum of blooming hydrangeas. 

An ode to spring. A love letter to the sky. A thank you to two people in particular. 

✿   — Years later —   ✿

“It’s very…blue?” Shouto watches Natsuo out of the corner of his eye. His brother looks at the painting in front of him for another second before nodding, apparently satisfied with his assessment. 

“Thank you?” Shouto says, the embodiment of cordiality and sincerity. Natsuo was never one for flowery compliments or words. 

“So, you excited or what?” Natsuo slings an arm over Shouto’s shoulder, steering him further down the gallery hall. Shouto shrugs off the arm, not out of emotional discomfort but because Natsuo is nearing 190cm with a muscular and beefy body to match; his arm was damn heavy. “Ah, our little Shouto’s all grown up. A distinguished artist with his own exhibit at a fancy art gallery,” Natsuo says wistfully. 

“Nee-san says she’ll try and visit later in the week,” Shouto says, recalling the phone call that featured Fuyumi’s teary declaration of how proud she was of him. “Nejire and Amajiki too.” 

“And Touya-nii?” Natsuo asks. 

“In Santorini with his amoureux,” Shouto says as matter-of-factly as possible. It takes a bit of restraint not to smile at the outwardly sickened face Natsuo makes. Shouto powers through though, he’s got a reputation to keep up after all. 

“Gross,” Natsuo grumbles, taking a seat on a plush bench. Shouto sits next to him. “Last I heard from him he was in Thailand.” 

Shouto chats with Natsuo for a few more minutes, about Touya and his impulsive globetrotting, about how their mother has finally been feeling well enough to start a small garden of her own again, about Natsuo’s residency, and Eri’s school life. Soon enough though his brother has to return to the hospital, promising to meet up for dinner later in the week when the rest of the family shows up too. 

Shouto walks around the exhibit room one last time. The gallery staff do some final decorating. It’s a spring theme, so fresh flowers and bouquets were brought in, decorating the tables and seats. It reminds him of the nursery, the room brimming with blossomed flowers and overgrown greenery. 

There’s still a few more hours before the exhibit opens so Shouto heads out to relax a little, maybe drink some cold O-negative too. 

✿   ✿   ✿

Steady hands move carefully, piping pastel pink icing along the edge of a chocolate cake. The swooping curves mimicking ribbon flow around the side of the cake, Shouto steadily spins the cake in a slow circle to go all the way around. He adds a few more details to the top, some flowers and dollops, before finishing up. 

Just in time too, seeing as Momo peeks around the corner a moment later, two containers in her hand. 

“Break time,” she smiles, handing one to Shouto. Shouto pokes the straw through the top and takes a sip of the cool blood. 

“You didn’t have to come in to help today you know,” Momo nudges his shoulder. “It’s the grand opening of your art exhibit after all.” 

“I like it here,” Shouto shrugs. Momo’s bakery, a cutesy little shop close to his house, was a place of comfort for Shouto. From the coral-coloured canopy outside, the fresh flowers Shouto would help maintain, the delicate wainscoting and the vintage style chairs, the glass displays hosting copious sweets and desserts that Shouto is unable to taste but enjoys looking at nonetheless. It’s nice here. So is Momo’s company; finally a vampire who enjoys a glass of cold blood as much as he does. 

“Oh,” Shouto sets his mostly-finished blood pouch aside. “These are for you.” He picks up the envelope sitting on the counter, handing it to Momo. “Tickets. For the exhibit,” he explains. The apologetic look Momo sends him is unexpected. 

“I might have already bought some,” she says, laughing lightly as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You could have just asked me for some.”

“But I wanted to support you!” Momo says earnestly, fists raised in front of her in excitement. Shouto can’t bring himself to be anything but genuinely touched by Momo’s enthusiasm, not when his friend is smiling so eagerly, eyes sparkling with adoration. 

“What am I supposed to do with these now?” Shouto mumbles, peeking inside the envelope at the two paper tickets inside. 

“Maybe Eri-chan’s friends will want to come?” Momo suggests. Ah, Eri’s friends. That loud girl with sand-coloured pigtails and the angry-looking boy with the horned hat. Shouto briefly recalls the one time Eri invited said friends over, also known as the Jenga Incident. The floorboards never quite looked the same after that. Shouto has no clue what human school children are fed these days but he can safely say that, no, he does not want Eri’s devil-spawned friends at his exhibit tonight. 

“Why don’t you just give them away to some customers?” Shouto suggests instead. 

“If you insist,” Momo shrugs, accepting the envelope and heading back out to the front of the bakery. 

Shouto stretches his arms and undoes the ties on his apron. He should probably get dressed soon; the exhibit officially opens in a couple of hours and if his outfit doesn’t have the Yaoyorozu Seal of Approval, Shouto will quickly turn into Momo and Eri’s doll to dress up as they please. 

✿   ✿   ✿

“But it’s Kacchan’s birthday! We have to get cake!”

“I don’t have to do anything. You wanna spend your money on some overpriced, sugar-filled junk, knock yourself out.” 

Kacchan must be in a good mood today, Izuku thinks, noting how, despite his protests, Kacchan lets himself be led down the street anyway, their hands intertwined in a tight and comfortable hold.  

“Ochako said there’s a popular bakery nearby. We should check it out since we’re here and it’s your birthday,” Izuku smiles. He glances up at the sky. Large white clouds hang high in the bright blue sky, cherry blossoms drifting upwards in the soft spring breeze. It’s a nice day out. And seeing as both he and Kacchan have the rest of the day off, it’d be a waste not to go out and do something. Although, convincing Kacchan of the same would be a bit more of a challenge. 

They approach the bakery; it’s a cute, Western-style place with a pink canopy and fresh flowers decorating the outside. Kacchan pushes open the glass door, never would he allow Izuku to do something as simple as holding open the door for him, and enters, Izuku following closely behind. 

The air inside smells of vanilla and cinnamon, sweet and light and absolutely wonderful. Large displays host a variety of sweets and desserts; Izuku’s stomach flips in anticipation. 

“Welcome!” Behind the front counter, a pretty woman with long, dark hair greets them. Her eyes widen in surprise for a moment before a serene smile makes its way back onto her face. Maybe she’s never encountered someone as sullen-looking as Kacchan. 

After kindly being directed to the cake display, Izuku mulls over which one to get. All of them look so good, each cake decorated so prettily, but Kacchan doesn’t really like frilly or sweet things. Izuku must be taking too long because eventually, Kacchan leans over his shoulder and points a finger.

“Just get this one. Stupid Deku, you always take forever to choose things,” Kacchan grumbles. It’s a strawberry cake, decorated with swirling whipped cream and fresh slices of strawberries. It looks sweet and charming and absolutely not Kacchan’s taste. 

“Could we get this one, please?” Izuku asks the bakery attendant. “Oh, and could you write ‘Happy Birthday’ on it?” 

“No problem,” the pretty woman smiles, carefully taking the cake out from the display. “Would you like a name written too?” 

“Yes, please!” Izuku nods, accepting the pen and paper the woman hands to him. “Happy Birthday Kacchan. Er, Katsuki?” Izuku sneaks a glance at Kacchan, whose patience seems to be running even thinner. “Happy Birthday Bakugou?” he tries again. 

“Goddammit, Deku,” Kacchan rips the pen and paper from Izuku’s hands. “Your writing is shitty as ever.” Kacchan, after writing in his much clearer penmanship, hands the paper back to the attendant, who is still smiling amicably despite Kacchan’s less-than-stellar attitude. 

“I’ll have it iced and wrapped up in a few moments,” the woman promises and disappears behind the back door with the cake. 

Izuku skips over to the other displays, gazing at the other desserts, wondering if he should get some extra sweets along with the cake. While he’s hungrily looking at a row of fancy cupcakes, Izuku hears footsteps and wonders if the woman is done icing the words already.

It’s not the pretty bakery attendant though. Izuku feels his heart leap up into his throat as he lets out a soft gasp. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kacchan look over too. 

Shouto. Standing there with his two-toned hair and mismatched eyes, in a loose white pullover tucked into light-wash jeans and a cute beret on top of his head. He stares in their direction, tilting his head and blinking slowly in that kitten-like way of his. His hair is longer now, falling over his eyes in the softest of waves.  Izuku slowly pinches his forearm, a little disbelieving of the sight in front of him. 

“You’re not here to stab me are you?” is the first thing Shouto says, eyes falling to the hunting gear strapped to their hips and thighs. Izuku promptly remembers that he dragged Kacchan out as soon as they got off work, not wanting to risk Kacchan’s mood deteriorating in the time it took them to change. 

Kacchan makes a choking sound after hearing Shouto’s words and Izuku might have laughed if he wasn't feeling so startled himself. 

“If you are...” Shouto continues, waltzing in smooth strides behind the counter and presses a button to ring up their order, “Let me get changed first, I’m wearing white after all.”

“We’re not going to kill you, you bastard,” Kacchan glares.

“Oh,” Shouto hums. “Why not? Do you like me or something?” Izuku barely reacts in time to stop a screeching Kacchan from jumping over the counter and tackling Shouto, or worse, actually stabbing him. 

“It’s nice— Ahh, Kacchan!” Izuku narrowly avoids being elbowed in the nose, “It’s nice to see you again, Shouto-kun!” 

“How long have you known we’ve known?” Kacchan demands, finally settling down. 

“Known what?” Shouto asks, face so effortlessly blank. Kacchan screams without opening his mouth but doesn’t make any moves to throttle Shouto this time. 

Izuku is curious about Kacchan’s question too though because Shouto has never given any indication that he was aware Izuku or Kacchan knew about his true nature. Izuku felt bad because Shouto honestly does a pretty bad job of hiding his vampirism but maybe he wasn’t even trying to hide it! But that is pretty dangerous, isn’t it? Or does he just trust them that much? Or is he— 

“Quit your muttering, nerd,” Kacchan squishes Izuku’s cheeks with one hand. 

“Sorry,” Izuku mumbles, rubbing at his face when Kacchan releases him. 

“It’s your birthday cake, right?” Shouto hardly looks bothered, clicking at something on the cashier monitor. “Happy Birthday,” he says monotonously and the monitored flashes with the words PAYMENT ACCEPTED.

“Eh?” Izuku’s eyes widen. “Ah, you didn’t have to—”

“Who asked you to do that, stupid Half’n’Half bastard?” Kacchan scowls.

“I wanted to,” Shouto says simply and Izuku thinks it's a bit of a religious experience watching Shouto say that so sincerely, smile at them so sweetly. Kacchan’s face turning a lovely shade of strawberry red is an added bonus too. 

“Ah, thank you,” Izuku smiles gratefully at Shouto. 

“I, um,” And suddenly Shouto looks bashful, a white envelope clutched in his hand. “There’s an art exhibit later today. My art exhibit. You two should come. I never did get to show you any of my artwork.” 

Izuku looks over at Kacchan, who’s already looking back. Kacchan is probably trying his best to maintain his uncaring, cool aura but Izuku can see that excited glimmer in his eyes. 

“That sounds like fun!” Izuku turns back to Shouto, beaming at him. 

“Sure, whatever,” Kacchan crosses his arms over his chest, “Since you’re begging us and all.” 

“Okay, then,” Shouto nods, a small smile on his face. No one says anything for a moment, all three of them avoiding eye contact, and then—

“All done!” the attendant from before pops back into the front, a white box with a red ribbon in her hands. “I wasn’t interrupting anything was I?” She glances at Shouto and then over to Bakugou and Midoriya. 

“Nope,” Shouto says, his expression blank once again. The woman shoots Shouto a look. Izuku wonders how they know each other. 

“Right,” she claps her hands together. “Here’s your cake,” she pushes the box towards Izuku and Kacchan. “And your free tickets.” She places the envelope on top of the box and Izuku thanks her, carefully grabbing the cake and envelope. 

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Well, go already!” She shoves at Shouto, pushing out from behind the counter. Shouto turns and pouts at the woman before turning his attention back to Izuku and Kacchan. Izuku muffles his giggles into his shoulder. 

“Right, um, let’s go,” Shouto pushes open the door for them, a handsome smile on his face.  Izuku is too busy swooning to even be offended that Kacchan lets Shouto do that for him. 

“Deku, you better not drop the cake.”

“I won’t!” 

“Momo makes the best cakes. Or so I’m told,” Shouto informs them. 

“Ahh! Shouto-kun, you really can’t eat cake. That’s so sad!” 

“Deku, I swear to god if you start crying about cake—” 

They’re probably benign just a little too loud walking down the sidewalk. But between the smiles and the laughter, the blue sky and the floating pink petals in the air, the way Kacchan moves to let Shouto walk in the better-shaded part of the sidewalk, and the anticipation of eating that really yummy-looking strawberry cake, Izuku can’t seem to care how loud they are. 

✿   ✿   ✿