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By their third year, Shouto and Izuku ended up spending most of their nights together. They’d been dating for awhile and Shouto always found he slept better when he was tucked into Izuku’s side.
Izuku liked to start each morning by turning to Shouto and asking him, “What did you dream about?”.
He may be actually curious, but Shouto had a sneaking suspicion that it was mainly to check for nightmares. Shouto had been experiencing them for as long as he could remember, so he no longer found them important. He hadn’t even considered mentioning them to Izuku when he initially began sleeping over. The first time Izuku woke up to his leg frozen to the bed he had freaked out and started his morning questionnaire routine.
Shouto didn’t mind it. He actually liked that he always had Izuku’s full attention first thing in the morning.
Izuku seemed happy when Shouto described his dreams to him, especially since his nightmares seemed to have improved since they started this routine. Izuku insisted that talking about these things helped and Shouto thought he might be right. Shouto hadn’t had any nightmares recently, in fact, his mind had been going back to the same dream he’d been having since he was a kid.
His brain always seemed to draw him back to it when he was stressed.
Shouto blinked his eyes open to see sunlight streaming through his curtains before his eyes landed on Izuku. His boyfriend was lazily tracing his fingers up Shouto’s arm and his eyes crinkled once he realized Shouto was awake.
“What did you dream about?” Izuku asked him. His green eyes were gazing at Shouto fondly. Shouto was still in shock that Izuku was endlessly happy to see him first thing in the morning.
“I dreamt about a garden,” Shouto answered simply. He didn’t elaborate, but Izuku didn’t mind. He simply kissed his forehead and began describing his own dream to Shouto; a confusing mush about hero work and tv shows blended into nonsense. Shouto listened intently as he tangled their legs together and appreciated a brief moment of absolute peace.
His own dream hung in the back of his head. Despite the nightmares, his brain seemed to do him favors when he was worried about something by bringing up dreams featuring the same prince stories his mother had told him as a kid. With exam season rapidly approaching, it was no surprise that he kept dreaming of the prince in the garden.
In this dream everything was perfect. The prince’s father left instead of his mother. His siblings met him in the garden and they laughed as they picked strawberries. A green haired traveler wooed the prince and the prince always felt worthy.
Maybe he dreamt about it because when he was particularly stressed he liked to recite this story to himself throughout the day. The story never left his head for long on bad days; it grounded him.
When he was a child and his mother was still around, she used to tell him the story of this prince. He wasn’t sure if it was something she read in a book or if she had made it up on her own. The story felt like it belonged in a beautiful leather bound book, but she always told it to him from memory as she brushed her fingers through his hair.
It was admittedly a boring fairytale; his siblings hadn’t liked it very much. Yet, Shouto asked her to tell it again and again, until it grew along with him.
The story was peaceful. It described a handsome prince tending to his garden, content and happy. The prince went on adventures sometimes, but he always returned to his garden to look at the flowers.
Shouto liked the simplicity of it. He wanted to be like the prince; free in a garden.
Shouto’s mother had taken him to the Todoroki household garden sometimes. He begged her to take him to it once he first heard the story. He wanted to sit in the grass and listen to her retell the tale. Afterall, they had such a beautiful garden that they hardly ever admired, so Shouto wanted to change that with her.
They watched the fish swim around in the pond, and she scolded Shouto when he stuck his hand in the water. The fish darted away upon seeing his fingers wiggling in the water so he pulled his hand away, giggling as water dripped off of his fist and onto the stones. Shouto enjoyed the light breeze rustling through the trees as they sat against a tree trunk and experienced a rare moment of peace. It seemed so frequently his mother was whispering the story to him in his bedroom as he clutched bruises from training. She calmed him with her words, healing him in a way that her ice couldn’t.
But in the garden he felt safe. He pictured the prince sitting with them under the tree, looking at flowers and enjoying the breeze. His mother gave him a rare smile when he told her this. She compared him to the prince and he kicked his feet against the grass as he laughed.
“You’re silly, mamma!” he told her. He couldn’t imagine being the prince; the prince was grown up and independent. Besides, if he was the prince then he wouldn’t have to leave the garden. No one would drag him away to train.
She simply shook her head and insisted, “The prince is kind and gentle, just like my Shouto!”
He stopped visiting the garden after she went away.
He still told himself the story of the prince. He wanted to carry it with him, even when it stung to think of who started the tale. He altered it over the years, trying to make it his own.
The prince grew and changed with him, but the story changed drastically when he entered UA.
The prince’s mother left for a while, only coming back after he added Izuku to the tale, who swept the prince off of his feet and took him on an adventure to reunite with his family. But even as Izuku took him on adventures in the tale, they always went back to the garden.
It was probably stupid for Shouto to still daydream about the story. He was older now; he had freedom. He had a garden he never used at his home. Things were better with his mother now and he was fairly certain he could return to the pond without that lingering sense of melancholy he used to feel.
But his garden at home just wasn’t the same. He wanted his own garden, one like the prince. He wanted somewhere beautiful to relax, a place free of bad memories and the shadows of his father. While things were better and he liked working to be a hero, deep down he wished he could start over and become the prince.
After a few weeks exams were almost over, but the dreams were still filling Shouto’s mind. He woke up to the sight of Izuku’s freckled shoulders after having another dream, one where he watched the prince pick flowers and wander garden paths with his siblings. Izuku must have felt him stir, because he instantly started shifting in response.
Izuku turned to him and asked, “What did you dream about?”
Shouto decided to tell him about one of his dreams featuring the prince. He told him the basics of the story, choosing to omit the role Izuku’s character had taken as a light of hope in the fantasy. Izuku listened with his full attention turned to Shouto despite the early hour of the morning.
Shouto watched his face closely as he talked. “I still think about the prince when I’m upset. It’s probably stupid, I don’t even go to my garden at home…” he trailed off. Izuku was still watching him with interest in his eyes. “Sometimes I wish I was like the prince,” he admitted.
“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Izuku said softly. “It sounds like it reminds you of your mom. And you probably have bad memories of your own garden.” Shouto nodded so he continued. “It’s not good to dwell in fantasies, but I’m glad it makes you happy.”
Shouto thought that was rich coming from someone who idolized heroes, but he held his tongue. He felt like Izuku was missing something. He indulged Shouto in hearing his pointless fable, but Izuku didn’t seem to fully grasp what it meant to Shouto. It wasn’t Izuku’s fault; he wasn’t a mind reader. Shouto wasn’t even sure why the story meant so much to him either, so he shouldn’t expect Izuku to piece it together for him.
Izuku kissed his nose and Shouto released a small breath. Maybe one day he would tell Izuku the full story of the prince, like his mother had for him. He probably hadn’t explained it well enough. He hoped Izuku would like it more then.
Exams finally ended, leaving Shouto drained and ready for a few days of rest. He finally broke his habit of daydreaming throughout lunch, instead choosing to join in conversations again at the table. He hadn’t had any dreams the last two nights either and secretly missed seeing the prince in his dreams.
A persistent knocking sound snapped him out of his thoughts. Shouto shuffled to the door and swung it open, revealing Izuku holding a flower out to him. Shouto took it gently and twirled it in his fingers, watching the petals swirl as it spun.
He frowned. “Thank you, but why?” He watched the flower spin again in his fingers.
Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, just come with me,” he replied sheepishly.
Shouto blinked. He set the flower on his dresser, wishing Izuku had given him time to put it in a vase of water, and followed Izuku out the door. He trusted Izuku and whatever strange plan he had come up with.
Izuku led him outside to the courtyard and Shouto squinted in the bright sunlight.
Izuku gestured to a small pile of soil on the sidewalk and smiled. “For you!” He flashed Shouto a proud grin, which only furthered Shouto’s confusion.
“Dirt…?” Shouto asked hesitantly. Izuku was normally a good gift giver, so it seemed odd for him to suddenly provide Shouto with a mound of dirt as a present. Was it for some weird holiday he didn’t know about?
Izuku seemed to sense his confusion. He grabbed Shouto’s hand and pulled him towards a bench. On it sat various flower pots and Izuku’s grin grew wider. “It’s our own garden!” he exclaimed. “I asked permission to start one in the courtyard. You looked kind of sad when you told the story; I could tell you were still thinking about it. I know I’m not a prince, but I thought it was a start. And you always seem prince-like. You know, you’re handsome, and…yeah...you know what I mean,” Izuku stammered. “But! If you want to begin your story for real…maybe we can…plant this together?”
He grabbed a small flower pot from the bench and held it out to Shouto. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest but he took the flower pot with steady hands. Izuku was too thoughtful sometimes. He always wanted to help Shouto in any way he could, even without being asked. With something as stupid as bringing his dream into existence by giving him a flower, Izuku went out of his way to provide, and he did it so easily.
Izuku wrung his hands. “Someday when we graduate and we have a life together, then we can start our own private garden. A big one.”
Shouto looked back at him and smiled. “I would like that. This is good too, though.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Izuku’s mouth. “Thank you, Izuku.”
Izuku flushed red and nodded quickly as Shouto picked up another plant. Shouto could feel Izuku's eyes watching him for a moment before Izuku snapped out of his daze and kneeled next to Shouto, ready to start their personal garden. He was suspiciously quiet as he watched Shouto grab a plant, so Shouto turned to face him again.
Izuku took on a devilish grin. “And you know, if you ever wanted to wear a prince costume, I wouldn’t say no to that…”
Shouto rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to toss dirt at Izuku’s pants. He huffed in mock annoyance before turning back to the flowers with dignity.
With his hands buried in dirt as he planted his first ever tree, Shouo wondered if maybe he could find peace like the prince after all.