Chapter Text
A week before Izuku’s nineteenth birthday, Toshinori wakes up from a nightmare.
It’s startling, Toshinori realizes, to wake up from a nightmare slowly. Normally, he jolts awake, sitting upright, prepared to fight. His heart rate will spike, adrenaline coursing through him, as he takes in his surroundings in the split second before he realizes what’s happened. It’s a terror that’s familiar to him, almost comfortable in the way he’s used to it.
This time, though, he wakes up paralyzed, unmoving, unable to move, buried in sorrow.
This nightmare was new to him, one he hasn’t had before. He’s had many nightmares of losing Izuku over the few short years they’ve known each other, dreams of the bloodied battles that would take his son and soul from him. He’s had nightmares of his boy’s too-white face being led away on a sterile cot, never to be seen again.
He’s never dreamt of the aftermath.
Eventually, he manages to shake it off, blinking with a groan. As Toshinori sits up in the dark, he glances at the clock. 4:23 am. He sighs, knowing Izuku hadn’t gotten home until late. Shutting his eyes, he tries to close the bond he knows must have opened, to assure Izuku he’s fine so his boy can get some much-needed sleep. But before he can, he hears familiar feet coming down the hallway.
Toshinori moves on to his next plan at the sound of them, propping up some pillows to prepare for Izuku to throw himself in his bed as he often does when Toshinori has nightmares. But strangely, that doesn’t happen. He hears the footprints stop at the door and pause. Izuku only ever pauses if he thinks Toshinori is still asleep, which means…
Izuku had a nightmare, too.
“Izuku,” Toshinori calls out in a half-whisper. “Izuku, I’m awake.”
The door cracks open slightly, and Toshinori sees his son’s emerald eye peek through. He gives him a soft smile, lifting one side of the blanket in invitation. Izuku immediately runs in, not even bothering to shut the door, and jumps into bed, rolling into Toshinori with a careful then crushing hug. Before he can say anything, Toshinori feels Izuku’s body begin to shake in sobs.
“Oh, my boy,” he murmurs, rubbing his back and pulling him closer, “you had a nightmare, too?” He feels Izuku nod his head against his shoulder, a sensation he can barely distinguish against the shuddering.
They’ve formed several routines over the years, routines only known by the two of them, especially since Izuku’s come to live with Toshinori. Some are nicer than others. Their breakfast routine, for example, is one of the nice ones. Toshinori asks Izuku each morning what he wants for breakfast, Izuku insists that Toshinori doesn’t have to do that and anything is fine, and Toshinori proceeds to make Izuku’s favorite breakfast anyway.
Their nightmare routine is not one of the nice ones, but it is certainly necessary.
Toshinori murmurs affectionate words to Izuku, an essential part of the nightmare routine in his mind. That’s why he doesn’t notice what’s odd about tonight at first. Izuku, once he calms down enough, is the one to bring it up.
“Wait, Dad, did you say, ‘too’?”
“What’s that, my boy?”
“You asked me, ‘Did you have a nightmare, too?’”
Toshinori turns to Izuku, and they stare at each other for a long moment. He did have a nightmare, a nightmare that comes rushing back to him now, but that’s not the part they’re stuck on.
“We both had a nightmare at the same time?” Toshinori wonders aloud.
“Has that ever happened before?”
“I don’t think so. Seems almost strange that it hasn’t, though.”
“Well, who should go first?” Izuku asks. This is the next part of the routine. Whenever one of them has a nightmare, after they calm down, they’ll share it with the other.
“Why don’t you go first?” Toshinori offers. Izuku nods and nuzzles himself into Toshinori once again, both settling in for whatever horrors they’re about to hear.
“It was… kind of different than usual,” he starts. This catches Toshinori’s attention, having had a unique nightmare himself. But he patiently waits for Izuku to say more. “It wasn’t actually a battle or anything, for either of us. It was my birthday, but… in the future, I guess.”
Toshinori’s eyes are wide open now, staring at Izuku, who’s still curled up into his chest.
“My vision followed you in the dream, just you, although I saw my mom at one point. It was my birthday, but… I guess I wasn’t… You were celebrating my birthday without me because… something happened to me. I wasn’t… there anymore. You took the day off work and sat at the beach, then you had lunch with my mom, and you bought flowers for me when you visited my…” Izuku begins to choke back tears again.
Toshinori, flooded with all kinds of emotions, finishes Izuku’s dream for him.
“And while I was there, I told you about my week, and then when I got home I… went to your room and fell asleep crying...” Izuku’s tears suddenly stop at that, and he glances up at Toshinori for the first time.
“How did you know that?” he whispers.
“Son… I don’t think we just had a nightmare at the same time. I think we had the same nightmare.”
They stare at each other for a long moment, taking in the new development in what must be their soul bond. Then, Izuku breaks.
“You were so sad , Dad! You were so sad and lonely without me, and your heart was so broken! You were trying so hard not to cry for me, to stay alive for me, you still loved me so much even after I wasn’t there anymore, and I couldn’t do anything! I wanted to hug you like you wanted, to tell you it was okay to cry, even if it was my birthday, I wanted so badly to be with you, to make you feel better, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t, and—” Izuku’s sobs start up again, and he can’t console himself. Toshinori holds his boy as tightly as he can.
“Oh, my boy, my precious son, it’s okay, we’re okay,” he murmurs, letting a few of his own tears fall. “We’re here right now. We have each other right now, okay? I know how much you love me, I know, I promise. And I love you, too. I’ll love you until the end of time, Izuku, no matter what.”
It weighs heavily on them for a while. They try to calm themselves, they try to fall asleep, but sleep eludes them. Sharing a nightmare would have been one thing. If it had been any of their standard nightmares, they would have felt less shaken. After all, Izuku has recounted nightmares of failing to save Toshinori from his fate so many times, Toshinori can see them himself at this point.
But the quiet grief of this nightmare had been something else, something Izuku and Toshinori hadn’t talked much about before. They’ve talked extensively about when Toshinori’s time comes, but if Izuku goes first...
It’s a distinct possibility, they both know it. Toshinori is still haunted by images of Izuku lying in a hospital bed for days during the war, only sensing he was alive through One for All. And Izuku claimed to write his letters for Toshinori for when he “wasn’t around,” but he never specified what that meant. Toshinori tried to not open too many of them, wanting to savor them, but he did notice that one or two had failed to mention Izuku coming back home.
Eventually, they do fall asleep though, resolving to talk about it more in the morning after a bit of rest. But before they do, Toshinori notices at one point that Izuku has allowed himself a small smile.
“What is it, my boy?” Toshinori asks, finding Izuku’s smile contagious, no matter how small it is.
“The nightmare wasn’t all bad,” Izuku says. “I did love your cat.” Toshinori strokes Izuku’s hair, viscerally recalling how he had a cat in the dream, a small thing to take care of to try to fill the hole where his son had been.
“Well, maybe that’s why we both had the nightmare,” Toshinori says. “You have always wanted a pet.” They both know that’s not why the nightmare came to them, even if they’re not sure of the exact reason. Still, he’s trying to lighten the mood while soaking up the feeling of his son beside him, wanting to cherish it.
“You know my schedule is too crazy to have a pet, Dad.” Toshinori chuckles.
“And you keep telling me to find safer ways to occupy my time. A cat could do the trick. Besides,” Toshinori adds, nuzzling his son’s soft curls, “someone does have a birthday coming up.”
When Inko opens the door to Izuku and Toshinori’s apartment, she’s alarmed to find them both sitting at the kitchen table still in their pajamas.
It is Sunday, she supposes, and 8:30 in the morning wouldn’t be considered late for most people. But she knows her son and his bonded father. They have this routine of sorts, the three of them, on Sunday mornings. The two of them wake up far too early to go for a run. Then, Inko comes in ready to do their laundry for the week. They protest far too much, offering to make her breakfast instead and insisting she relaxes, but no one acquiesces, and they all go about finding something to do for the other.
Inko often wishes for a slight break in this routine, for the ability to truly do things for her Izuku. But this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.
“Mom!” Izuku squeaks, standing to embrace her. Every time she sees her son, he feels a bit taller to her, having to bend down a little more to give her a proper hug. He’s still a young man, and he’ll always be her baby, of course, but she’s always astounded by how comforting his presence feels now, how safe and protected she can feel in his arms. It sends a pang of guilt through her sometimes, too, wishing she could still offer that to him in return.
“My baby, when did you get so tall?” She says this every time, and normally her son and his father chuckle at that. Today, they’re strangely silent. She pulls away from Izuku, who seems reluctant to let go, and looks him in the eyes. They’re red and bloodshot, clearly stained from crying. Worry washes over her as she glances at Toshinori. His eyes look the same.
“Oh, oh no, what happened? What’s wrong?” She moves to take her seat at the kitchen table, but Izuku grabs her once more, not yet ready to part from her. She glances at Toshinori. He looks hesitant, like he wants to stand but is trying to give them a moment. Inko waves her son’s father over.
“Come here,” she says to him. “I can see you want to join in, too.” Toshinori doesn’t seem to need any more prompting. He stands up and joins in the hug from Izuku’s backside. She feels her son’s arm move just enough to pull his dad into the embrace as the former hero bends down to bring as much of himself into the hold as he can. They stay like that for a moment, the small family holding each other, until Inko finally has to know.
“How worried do I need to be?” she whispers, afraid of the answer.
“I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to scare you. We had a bad dream last night is all.”
“We?”
Izuku pulls out of the embrace for the first time, and his parents follow suit. Inko sees Toshinori bring a large hand up to Izuku’s curls, giving them a signature rub before stepping into the kitchen. Izuku takes his mom’s hand and guides her to the table to sit. He’s holding it so affectionately, Inko wants to cry without even knowing what’s going on. Her son has always been a tender person, but something about this overwhelms her.
“Mom, you know my nightmares are normally about losing you or Dad in some big villain attack, right?”
“Of course I do, sweetie.” She nods in thanks to Toshinori as he sets a cup of tea down beside her free hand.
“And Dad’s nightmares are usually the same but about losing me?” Inko nods again. “Well… We don’t really know what happened yet or how it works, but… we had the same nightmare last night.” Inko glances over at Toshinori, who’s taken his seat across from her as he places a hand on Izuku’s shoulder.
“That must have been quite the nightmare for me to find you both like this.” They glance at each other, and Toshinori jumps in.
“We think Izuku picked up on my nightmare,” he says, a flash of guilt crossing his features, “since it was from my perspective. We’re not sure, but we think it’s an extension of the knowing.”
They don’t know this yet, of course, but Inko takes interest in that for reasons beyond her concern for the two of them. She thinks she hears her phone buzz in her purse at the thought, but she holds off on that for now. After all, she’s already kept this from them for weeks.
“And what happened in the nightmare?” she dares to ask. Toshinori’s head falls, his expression of guilt contorting into grief, as Izuku presses his cheek into the man’s hand on his shoulder. Her son lifts his head back up and nods slightly, suggesting that Toshinori just sent something to him over their bond. Izuku turns back to her.
“The nightmare was on my birthday sometime in the future, only… I wasn’t there. Dad was celebrating my birthday without me.” Inko’s breath hitches. She doesn’t need them to clarify, so she’s trying to decide how much of this she really wants to hear.
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” she whispers. Izuku shakes his head.
“No, I want to, if that’s okay.” Izuku glances at Toshinori, who gives a soft nod, then glances at Inko, who does the same. So, Izuku tells her about the dream, and she squeezes her son’s hand tighter and tighter as he does. Once he reaches the end, tears are falling down all of their faces.
Inko now wonders how the pair didn’t look worse upon her arrival.
“I don’t want to upset you, Mom,” Izuku concludes, “but it’s really important to me after that that you know how much I love you. I love you so much, Mom.”
“Oh, baby…” Inko’s words get caught in her throat as she reaches for her son, holding him again.
“I know I’ve picked a dangerous path,” Izuku says, sitting up straight again but still holding her hand, “and I know that puts a lot of stress on both of you. I’m so grateful for you supporting me through everything because I am really happy, even though I know that’s not always easy. But it’s really important to me that you both know that if… well… I love you both so much, and I know you both love me, and I don’t want either of you to have any regrets or feel like you need to do anything for me because you’ve already done so much, okay? I wouldn’t expect you to be okay if the worst happened, but I at least want you to know that I’d want you to do whatever you needed to take care of yourselves.”
Inko’s staring at the table, feeling tears stream down her cheeks, but she can’t help but smile a bit. “Izuku,” she says, taking his hand and looking up. He gives her a small smile in return. “You are such a good son. I don’t think I tell you that enough, but I’m so grateful for who you turned out to be, and I wouldn’t change that for anything.”
With that, they sit in silence for a few more moments, enjoying the time they have now, here together as their own little family. Soon, though, Inko’s thoughts fall to who’s missing in her mind.
Her phone rings again.
“Alright, enough of this!” Inko leaps up at her declaration, startling the other two out of their thoughts and distracting them from the buzzing in her purse. “I’ll make breakfast while you two get dressed. There’s no use in sitting around and moping about what could happen, after all.”
The two at the table nod mutely, then stand up at her instruction. Inko hurries into the kitchen with her phone and glances at it. She briefly wonders if she has enough time to call back, then decides against it for now, choosing to get breakfast ready instead. After all, she hasn’t talked to Izuku and Toshinori yet.
I’m fine, she thinks loudly. I don’t need anything.
She hardly notices when the two return, now chatting about other things. Inko keeps staring ahead of her as she sets out the rice and fish, letting her mind wander. She doesn’t know how to start this conversation with them, even if she’s been thinking about it for weeks. The missed calls waiting for her distract her, and then there’s the conversation she needs to have with the caller, too. It’s only been a couple months, and maybe that’s her hesitation. Perhaps it’s too soon, Perhaps the occasion is inappropriate, too intimate. Maybe she should introduce this at another time...
“Mom? Are you okay?”
Izuku’s prodding breaks her out of her thoughts. She’s about to answer when her phone rings again. She glances at her purse but doesn’t make a move to check who’s calling. She already knows.
“Do you need to get that, Inko? It’s okay.”
“No,” she says too quickly, then sighs. They’re both staring at her, and she knows the conversation has been forced upon her. It’s probably for the best.
“It’s… I need to tell you both something.” She sees each of them sit up, alert, and realizes she phrased that poorly. “It’s not bad, I promise!” she stammers, waiting until they both relax a bit. “But it’s… um…” she feels herself blush a bit and brings a hand to her cheek.
“It’s okay, Mom. You can tell us. Unless you’d like to talk to me first?”
Toshinori goes to stand and leave, but Inko stops him. “No, I’d like to tell both of you.” The two before her wait patiently as she tries to compose herself. Honestly, she feels like she’s acting worse than a schoolgirl. “I… I met someone.” she finally stammers with a deepening blush.
They both stare at her until Izuku finally breaks the silence with a wide smile. “Mom, that’s great!” She allows herself a small smile at that, too, which only grows wider when Izuku throws himself at her in a hug.
“Oh! Well, thank you, Izuku. I’m glad to hear you’re happy about it.” He pulls out of the embrace and stares at her.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well… I never really dated much when you were growing up, and I know you haven’t shown a strong interest in that kind of thing, so I just didn’t know if it would be odd for you is all…”
“Mom,” Izuku whispers, holding Inko’s hand. “I want you to be happy, and if this makes you happy, then of course I’m happy. Why don’t you tell us more?”
So she does. Her blush grows deeper and deeper as their smiles grow wider and wider while she rambles like a lovestruck teenager, telling them about the man she met in the grocery store. It was such a simple introduction, she knows, but so incredibly perfect in her mind.
Inko had been staring at the top row of sauces, trying to decide which one to reach for, when a small, unassuming man with a smile that crinkled his eyes stepped toward her. He had offered to reach for a bottle for her, a surprising offer since he couldn’t have been much taller than herself. When she started to refuse, to explain her quirk to the man, she saw a bottle hover down before she had done anything. Bringing it to his own hand, he tilted the bottle in show, as if he had concluded a magic trick. Before either of them could say anything else, she did the same for him and could only smile as his face fell in shock.
“I’m Inko Midoryia,” she told the man with a slight bow.
“Benjiro Yasuda,” he said. His name had felt calming. It felt like home.
That happened a few weeks ago, around Izuku’s graduation. And ever since then…
“He’s been calling since our talk this morning, he must have known…” she says with another blush. Sometimes she can’t help but wish her face didn’t give everything away. Izuku simply crushes her with another hug.
“Mom, that’s so great! I’m really, really happy for you.” She can’t help but feel a bit relieved at her son’s reaction, even if she still hasn’t reached the parts she’s been worrying about. Izuku pulls away and looks at her. “So, just to make sure I’m clear, you’re saying that you and he are bonded, right? But like, in a romantic way?”
“I guess so,” she admits, and Izuku’s smile only grows wider. “It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest. I’m not used to feeling something and having someone want to take care of it instantly for me. And whenever I reach for something with my quirk, it comes a lot more easily these days, almost too easily. I’ve almost hit myself with a few items, they come at me so fast now!”
“Don’t worry, Inko, you’ll get it over time,” Toshinori says with his own smile, “and we can help you adjust to your quirk if you want.” She appreciates the man’s warm hand in hers suddenly and gives it a squeeze before bringing her hands back to her face.
“Well, in any case, I’d really like for you both to meet him,” Inko says. “Now that I’m pretty sure he’s going to be sticking around for a while, I think it only makes sense. How would you feel about him joining us for part of your birthday, Izuku?”
“That’s what I was going to say!” And really, at that moment, she couldn’t love her son any more.
“You should probably call him back now, Inko,” Toshinori intercedes. “I know I hate it when I can’t get a hold of Izuku and he needs something.” Inko nods in agreement, understanding that in a way she hadn’t before a few weeks ago, and stands to call Benjiro back.
One half of the conversation is done.
“Cats don’t usually make great birthday presents,” Shouta says, side-eying Toshinori.
Toshinori doesn’t care. He’s ruffling the fur of an orange tabby that made his way into his lap. It’s so small, his hand could easily wrap around the entire creature. He only uses his index and middle finger to touch the kitten to compensate, scratching the top of the tiny head. It purrs contentedly, and Toshinori can’t help but wonder why he hadn’t had this idea before despite Shouta’s warning.
“People say that because it’s not a good idea to expect someone to have to take care of their gift,” Toshinori says with a shrug. “I fully expect to take on most of the responsibilities, so it’s not really an issue here.”
“Then why isn’t Midoriya here to pick out his own present?”
“He’s working. Besides, I’m not going to give him his present before his birthday. He has to wait until Sunday.”
Shouta huffs at that as the two turn to watch Eri, who’s practically buried in a pile of cats. She was too polite to reach for any of them on her own, but they instantly crawled into her lap as soon as she sat on the couch. Toshinori can’t help but chuckle as the girl giggles and squeals in delight. If anyone deserves the joy of being buried in cats, Toshinori thinks, it’s Eri.
“Don’t say it,” Shouta bites before Toshinori even opens his mouth to suggest they take one home.
“Come on, how could you say no to her?”
“I haven’t had to, she hasn’t asked a question.” Toshinori gives Shouta a knowing look. “Besides, we already have a cat,” he adds.
“I hear two doesn’t add much more work than one.”
“Then you get two.”
Toshinori laughs, which causes the kitten on his knee to jump away. “I thought this was a bad idea, though.” Shouta rolls his eyes, but Toshinori doesn’t really mind.
They sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching Eri and her cats. Every so often, a stray will come to the two teachers, usually choosing to rub up against Shouta’s signature black costume, leaving damning evidence of its visit in the form of shedded hairs. The man doesn’t seem to mind. He’s not usually dressed to impress, and they came here after the school day anyway, so there’s no one to hide the evidence from.
A sleek, adult black cat approaches Toshinori at one point, sitting in front of him expectantly. Toshinori bends down to give it a few scratches when it starts to bat at his bangs. The man tries to pull back, but the cat manages to dig one of its claws into the hair, keeping him locked in place. He hears a new giggle from the girl on the other side of the room.
“Daddy, that cat is just like you, using Uncle Toshi’s hair like your capture weapon!”
Toshinori is too distracted with trying to get the claw out of his hair to notice the girl suddenly beside him grabbing Shouta’s phone. He hears a few clicks, then a rare chuckle from Shouta.
“I don’t think you need to get the full cat,” Shouta says to Toshinori, glancing at his phone. “These pictures probably make a good enough gift.”
Finally managing to get the cat out of his bangs, the creature grows bored and walks back to the couch that Eri vacated. Eri follows it as Toshinori feels his phone buzz. Unlocking it, he looks at the pictures Shouta sent him. Eri’s assessment of the situation had been strangely accurate. Toshinori has a feeling that Izuku will even find a way to turn this into a “meme” (a concept Izuku has explained to him a dozen times but still doesn’t understand).
“So,” Shouta says a minute later, clearing his throat, “we’re here because of that dream you and the problem child both had?”
They each grow more somber at that. Toshinori had partly asked Shouta and Eri here just to spend time with them and to see what they thought of Izuku’s birthday present. But he also wanted to know if they had ever shared a dream, too.
“You could say that,” Toshinori says, his throat tightening from the memory of it a few days before.
“I don’t think Eri remembers this,” Shouta says quietly, “but I’ve had a few of her nightmares. They’re usually ones where she’s calling out to me for help in the dream, so I think you’re onto something that it has to do with the knowing. She needed me in hers, just like you needed him in yours.” Toshinori nods in solemn understanding. “I tried to talk to her about it once or twice, but her nightmares already upset her enough. She was devastated when she thought she was hurting me, too. I’m looking for the right time to bring it up again, so if you could refrain from saying anything to her in the meantime, that would be appreciated.”
“Of course.”
“I have to ask, though…” Shouta hesitates, bringing a hand to his capture weapon out of habit. “You and Mrs. Midoriya have really never talked to him about that possibility before the nightmare?”
Toshinori sighs, glancing down at his hands. Another cat jumps up next to him on the bench, and he’s grateful for the opportunity to focus on something other than his own dread.
“I don’t know if Inko has, to be honest. But he and I only talked about it once, after he got out of the hospital the first time back then.”
Neither of them needs to specify what Toshinori means by back then. It’s a time they’re all familiar with at this point, the final battle to hunt down All for One and Shigaraki. Whenever someone says back then, they mean back when Japan was thrown into chaos for two months, and the year it took to rebuild after that.
“It’s been a while, then,” Shouta says. “And I’m sure the raid a few weeks back didn’t help.”
That’s the understatement of the century, Toshinori thinks. He’s pretty sure it’s what prompted his dream in the first place. It had been a gun, among all things, that had almost taken Izuku from him. An automatic, illegal and rare to see these days, the succession of bullets came too quickly for Izuku to properly dodge. One had grazed his leg while the other hit his abdomen. Toshinori had called Recovery Girl in a blind panic when he felt the need for help register from Izuku, and she made it in time to stop him from bleeding out.
It wasn’t the first close call Izuku had encountered, and Toshinori knows it won’t be the last.
“After his birthday, then,” Toshinori decides out loud. “No need to be morose before that.” Toshinori knows that his dreamscape might not let him make it to the end of the week without a conversation, and Shouta seems to know it, too. Respectfully, the man says nothing.
Toshinori’s grateful, he thinks in this moment, for his friendship with Shouta. It’s hard to say if they would have become so close if they hadn’t both become parents through soulmates. After all, the only other things they had in common before seemed superficial, mainly their careers. Even there, they had taken wildly different paths. But Shouta seems to do well with those who talk too much, like Toshinori, perhaps because he says so little. That’s probably why he’s also such good friends with Hizashi. But Toshinori isn’t like Hizashi. The man makes a friend everywhere he goes. Toshinori, meanwhile, acts like a friend everywhere he goes, but that’s not quite the same as being one.
Shouta has taught him how to be one through small yet meaningful conversations like this, and he’s grateful for that.
“Sweetie, are you getting hungry?” Shouta calls out to Eri, breaking Toshinori from his thoughts.
“Yeah, Daddy!”
“Alright, let’s head home for dinner.” They go to stand up and Toshinori follows suit.
“Did you choose one for Deku, Uncle Toshi?” Eri asks. The man rubs the girl’s hair.
“I don’t think I want to make that choice for him,” Toshinori answers. “I think instead we should bring him here on Sunday for an hour or two and let him pick. How does that sound? Could you both come back?” Eri’s eyes light up, glancing at Shouta with such hope that the man can’t help but give her a smile.
“I think we can manage that,” Shouta says.
“I’ll send you the details once I get it sorted out,” Toshinori promises.
They say their goodbyes, then Toshinori heads back inside to reserve the café for Sunday. After he leaves, he glances through the window one more time at all the cats. The black one reappears at the window, sitting patiently in front of Toshinori once more. The man doesn’t miss the way its green eyes are a little too focused on his wispy bangs. He doesn’t want to lead Izuku on in any way when they come here, but he honestly can’t decide if he hopes Izuku will choose Shouta’s little doppelganger or stay far away from him. It’s definitely nothing in between.