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Since their last spar, Izuku realized that he hardly looked at Kacchan.
It was something that confused Izuku. Izuku was always looking at people, always searching for their next move, to see if they were going to be friendly or hurtful towards him. It had been a practice Izuku started from a young, young age, because being Quirkless in Japan meant that Izuku always needed to be careful when talking to anyone. That caution only grew over the years, and it completely evolved into something much different when he and the rest of 2-A had been forced into the War. His cautionary habit of watching people’s movements had become an ingrained practice that had saved his life, and the lives of his family and friends as well.
Now that the War was over, though, Izuku found that he couldn’t stop his over-analyzation of people. There were so many that had gone undercover against Izuku and his family that Izuku found it hard to trust new people these days. It was something he was working on with Ryou-sensei during therapy, but it was slow going. One of the exercises Ryou-sensei had given Izuku was to occasionally stop and think about the people he analyzed; why did he do it? Was there anyone he analyzed a lot, and why? Was there anybody he didn’t analyze a lot? Why was that? It was a good exercise for Izuku, because as much as he didn’t like analyzing himself, Izuku admitted that he was good at analysis, and doing so would help him in trying to be more relaxed around others.
So, when Izuku stopped to think about who he stared at and who he didn’t, Izuku realized something: he didn’t stare at Kacchan. It baffled Izuku, really, because of how often Izuku saw the other teen, and how regularly they sparred with one another, and with how often they were just in each other’s general vicinity. And yet, Izuku didn’t stare at Kacchan. Why that seemed to be the case was a question that greatly bothered Izuku. What was it about Kacchan that made him so…different? Izuku wasn’t one to let a question lie unanswered, but he had yet to come up with any answers. And so, he turned to his closest allies for this offensive matter: Shouto, Tenya, Tsu, and Ochako.
“I just don’t understand,” Izuku said, laying on his designated All-White-All-Might beanbag in Shouto’s room. Each one of them had a designated space in Shouto’s room for whenever they visited Shouto (bought with Endeavor’s money of course); Tenya had a large armchair, one with little slots that allowed for the Class President to store a few pairs of glasses in them; Tsu had a rolling gamers chair, one that was wide enough that she could sit comfortably on it with both her arms and legs; Ochako had a simple pink bean bag chair, but there were also cushioned wall panels for Ochako to float to whenever she was feeling restless or didn’t want to stay in one place; Shouto himself usually lounged in front of or inside his kotatsu, Shouto easily being able to control whether he wanted the kotatsu’s temperature hot or cold; and Izuku had a soft, white and fuzzy bean bag chair that was so big that it even engulfed All Might in his Hero form (Izuku knew this because he’d had All Might come and try it once. It was definitely an experience for everyone involved.). It was a comfortable set-up, one that Izuku’s squad of friends had found themselves in many times over the last year whenever they needed to discuss something, do homework in a quieter setting, or just wanted to destress in a smaller group.
“Like, I stare at everyone these days,” Izuku continued, everyone in the room already knowing of Ryou-sensei’s task of Izuku breaking down and analyzing his staring habit. “I don’t do it as much with you guys, or the others in our family, but with Kacchan, I don’t stare at him at all .”
“That does seem to be a conundrum,” Tenya replied, holding his chin between his forefinger and thumb. “Is there something about Katsuki-san that is different from the others in 2-A?”
“Different?” Izuku mumbled to himself, narrowing his brows. “What would make Kacchan different from everybody else?”
“Well,” Ochako said, “maybe it’s a matter of trust or familiarity? You’ve known him since you were kids, after all.”
“I mean, yeah, we have,” Izuku agreed, “so maybe familiarity is a part of it? But I trust you guys a lot as well, why would I trust Kacchan more than you?”
“When Katsuki-chan walks into a room, do you notice him right away kero?” Tsu asked, and Izuku tilted his head.
“I…think so?” Izuku said. “I can tell when he enters a room, because I am familiar with him, like you said. But it’s not a conscious thing, I don’t think? I know when Kacchan enters a room, but it’s not a big thing? Like, my brain notices he’s there, but then goes back to doing other things.” Izuku scowled. He was being rather inconcise with his words, which was odd, because normally, Izuku was full of nothing but words. To not be able to put to words what he was feeling was quite frustrating. Izuku was in tune with his emotions; he had to be, to control all of the quirks that he inherited, especially when they were all based off of different emotions. This lack of understanding was grinding away at his patience, and subsequently his control. Case in point, he felt Tsu reach over with her tongue to keep him from floating up and into the ceiling (again).
“Ahh, sorry, Tsu,” Izuku apologized, scratching his neck. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking the time to acknowledge that he was upset and to let it go; getting overly angry wouldn’t help him figure out the situation, nor would it make things better.
“It’s fine, Izu-chan,” Tsu said, gazing at him with a steady, questioning look. Izuku took another deep breath before nodding to himself. He smiled at her, and Tsu nodded, releasing Izuku from her tongue’s gentle hold. Izuku settled back into his beanbag, sinking into it further as he hummed contemplatively, crossing his arms over his chest. It was quiet in Shouto’s room for a moment, a calm one that gave Izuku a sense of security and safety. He smiled slightly at that, cherishing the moment of comfort for what it was, just as he did with any other time this feeling was invoked within him. Izuku could only hope that his closest friends felt the same way as he did.
After a while, Shouto spoke.
“I think,” Shouto began slowly, and Izuku could see him weighing the words in his head before saying them. “I think you feel a sense of safety with Katsuki that you don’t with others.”
“A sense of safety?” Izuku repeated, frowning a bit. “But I feel safe with all of you. What makes Kacchan different?”
“None of us know you as well, Izuku,” Ochako said, holding up a hand. “Yeah, I know we’re the Izucrew and everything,” Izuku stuck his tongue out at the silly name, “but there’s something to be said for someone who you’ve known for your whole life.”
“Ochako is right, Izuku,” Tenya nodded, moving his arms to gesticulate with as he spoke. “Additionally, both you and Katsuki-san are actively neck and neck in class, so to speak. You trust him to have your back, as you often did during the War, when our numbers were spread thin.”
“Of course I trusted Kacchan to have my back!” Izuku countered. “He wouldn’t turn his back on an ally, that’s not him.”
“That is all the more reason, Izuku,” Tenya said, and Izuku huffed.
“Well, Shouta-sensei was regularly assigned with me, too, and I trusted him to watch my back. But I stare at him too, a bit, which is odd, now that I think about it.” Izuku said, distracting himself with the analysis he just came to.
“It’s because he’s an adult,” Shouto said quietly, and Izuku stilled. The room went quiet with the heavy truth of Shouto’s words. Of their small group of friends, Izuku and Shouto were eerily similar in how the adults in their lives had failed them. Where Izuku had been failed by the many adults and teachers who shunned him for his Quirklessness, Shouto had been failed because the adults in his life hadn’t seen the signs of abuse and neglect Shouto was suffering.
It hurt Izuku to realize that Shouto was so acutely right when it came to Izuku’s trust of their homeroom sensei. Shouta-sensei had proven time and again that he was trustworthy, that he had Izuku’s best interests at heart, as well as those of his friends and family in 2-A. And yet, there was that oh-so-small part of Izuku, the one that was always on the look-out for danger, that Shouta-sensei couldn’t be trusted because Shouta-sensei was an adult, and adults, in one way shape or another, had always managed to fail Izuku.
‘I suppose this is something I’m going to have to tell Ryou-sensei,’ Izuku thought to himself, pushing down the well of sadness at the thought. Ryou-sensei was a wonderful psychiatrist for Izuku, one that Izuku had formed a strong bond with during the War; Izuku trusted the man with his secrets, the inner workings of his mind, and he had shared some things with the older man that he hadn’t even told his friends. Izuku also knew that this trust was reciprocated, and that Ryou-sensei held him in high regards; the man would even refer to Izuku as his pup from time to time, and that never failed to send a tendril of happiness down Izuku’s chest, wrapping around his chest like a warm hug.
When Ryou-sensei heard about this latest revelation, though, the man was going to be devastated. Izuku’s distrust of adults had been discussed with Ryou-sensei before, though perhaps not in full detail, as there had always been other things that Izuku felt needed priority. When Ryou-sensei found out that his distrust of adults was so strong that he couldn’t even fully trust Shouta-sensei …well, that was going to be a day to bring a full box of tissues, Izuku supposed.
“It’s interesting, though,” Ochako said brightly, forcefully inserting cheerfulness into her voice and demeanor.
“It’s interesting how you find a yapping chihuahua to be your most trusted confidant.” Ochako said, and Izuku snorted. Then, he imagined Kacchan as a small, fluffy chihuahua yapping at Izuku’s heels, and Izuku broke into peals of laughter, the rest of them soon joining him.
It was great, having friends like this.
0o0-0o0-0o0
Ever since Izuku came to the realization that Kacchan was some sort of point of safety for Izuku (and that Shouta-sensei wasn’t), Izuku had taken to slowing down when he observed people, including his classmates. This led to some…unfortunate realizations.
In short, Izuku’s friends and family were very attractive and Izuku had absolutely no idea how to deal with that.
While Izuku had peripherally realized that everyone in his class was more attractive than the typical norm in a high school classroom, he hadn’t actively realized it, being far too busy dealing with controlling and mastering One For All, and the subsequent dangers All For One and his followers brought forth. Now, however, with Izuku taking the time to look at everyone around him, he was finding out that there might have been more than just being War Heroes that caused the other students at U.A. to stare at him and everyone in 2-A.
It was devastating.
Izuku found himself suddenly being unable to meet the eyes of everyone in 2-A, and if he did, he couldn’t do so without breaking out in a furious blush. Of course, this had everyone concerned, asking if Izuku was sick, and whether or not he needed to rest or sit down. Even Shouta-sensei was sending him concerned looks.
It was Hitoshi who had cleared up the misunderstanding, though definitely not without destroying Izuku’s pride (what little that was left, at any rate).
It was homeroom, and Izuku had been talking with Ochako, deftly ignoring the concerned looks sent his way as he avoided any and all eye contact with his classmates. The two of them were talking about changing where they were going to spar tonight, because Izuku didn’t know if he could be in the same space with everyone at the moment, not without royally embarrassing himself somehow, and seeing everyone working out and sparring would just…Izuku blushed bright red, and Ochako snorted at him. She went to make a (probably devastating) comment about Izuku’s dilemma when Hitoshi came up to them.
“Izuku,” Hitoshi greeted, nodding his head coolly at Izuku. Hitoshi was one of the few people in the class that Izuku could make some semblance of a conversation with. He was still attractive, as everyone else in the class was, but he also reminded Izuku of Shouta-sensei a little too much for Izuku to be truly attracted to him. It was a weird balance that led Izuku to trusting Hitoshi much quicker than he would have otherwise.
“Ahh, Hitoshi-kun,” Izuku greeted, briefly looking up at the purple-haired teen. Purple eyes looked down at him with curiosity and…amusement?
“You’ve figured it out, then,” Hitoshi-kun says cryptically. Izuku squints, a little apprehensive. He feels like he knows where the teen’s going with this, and he’s not sure that he likes it. Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku watches Ochako take a sip of her tea, equally amused.
“What have I figured out, Hitoshi-kun?” Izuku asks, warily. The rest of 2-A watches on, curiously. It’s the first time Izuku’s held a conversation with anyone outside his tight-knit circle all week, after all. Hitosh’s amusement grew. With a growing sense of horror, Izuku understood that Hitoshi knew exactly why Izuku had been avoiding everyone.
“You’ve realized, like the rest of the school, that everyone in 2-A is unfairly attractive, then?” Hitosh, at this point, is wearing a smile reminiscent of Shouta-sensei’s scarier smiles.
Across from him, Ochako snorts her tea through her nose. Throughout the classroom, the rest of 2-A all start talking at once, gazes flying towards Izuku. The more they stare at him, the more flustered Izuku becomes, his face gradually brightening to what Izuku thinks must be a very bright red. Of course, the tipping point is Mina-san.
“Aww, Zuzu, do you think we’re all attractive? How cute~” Mina-san grins at him, surprise and amusement and teasing all wrapped up into the curve of her lips.
Izuku sinks his head into his arms and wails.
0o0-0o0-0o0
“It’s just not fair, Shouto,” Izuku said. “Everything he does is just—it’s cruel and unjust, and I can’t, I just—Shou, how the fuck am I supposed to function now?” Izuku asks, low and fast. They’re stretching after their last sparring match. Izuku would have gone for another round with Shouto, but Tenya had requested they move their study group to right after P.E. that day because he was going to be home, visiting his elder brother for the weekend.
“As everyone else does, Izuku,” Shouto says, a towel wrapped around his neck.
“And what is that, huh?” Izuku asked, sending Shouto a look from where he was on the ground, stretching out his calves.
“Through blind panic,” Shouto replied blandly, and Izuku chokes, falling flat on his back. Izuku stared at the ceiling, listening to the rest of 2-A as they finished up their matches. A hand in front of his face brings him back to focus. Izuku sighed, but grabbed the hand anyway, letting Shouto heft him from the ground.
“That’s not the most helpful advice you’ve given me, you know,” Izuku said, patting his legs free from any debris that may have landed on his clothes during their spar. If it’s one thing that wrecked Izuku’s clothes, it was sparring with any of 2-A (not that Izuku minded, he absolutely loved sparring, and Momo was almost always more than happy to make any of them new clothes.).
“It’s the teenage thing to do, I’ve heard,” Shouto said, and Izuku snorted. Neither of them was very connected with how the average teenager did things, but sometimes they liked to pretend they were.
“Is that what they do?” Izuku asked as they walked towards the locker rooms. “Damn, can’t relate.”
Shouto huffed, amused, and Izuku grinned. It was always a good feeling, to get Shouto to laugh or smile in any way. The dual-quirked teen was often very closed off when it came to expressing his emotions, and so any way Izuku and his friends could get Shouto to express himself was often taken, and with great pride.
“Let’s get going, Tenya will be upset if we’re late again.” Izuku said, taking a quick glance around the gymnasium to see if he forgot anything. He ended up watching Kacchan and Eijirou sparring, one of the last matches for their class. It wasn’t a surprise, given their quirks; they were well-matched for each other, with Eijirou being hard to take down and Kacchan being hard to stop.
“What did Tenya want to study today?” Shouto asked.
“I’m not sure,” Izuku replied, eyes still on the match. “I think it has something to do with trigonometry…”
Izuku stopped talking, watching as Kacchan pinned EIjirou down. The blond pinned Eijirou’s hands above the redhead’s head while he sat on the redhead’s waist, preventing the redhead from moving. Both of their chests were heaving with exertion, even as Eijirou tried to break out of Kacchan’s grip. Izuku swallowed, his mouth going dry.
“Izuku?” Shouto asked, and Izuku jumped.
“Ah, sorry!” Izuku replied, turning his head to reply to Shouto just as he ran into the doorframe of the locker room.
“Oof!” The air was forced from Izuku’s lungs as his head banged against the metal frame. Izuku fell back a few steps, tripping until he fell down to land on his butt. He blinked a few times to clear his vision.
“Oh ow,” Izuku mumbled to himself, turning his head to face Shouto as his friend placed a hand on his shoulder. Shouto was frowning, his brows furrowed in concern, and Izuku tilted his head, confused and a little worried.
“Shouto, what’s wrong?” Izuku asked.
“You’re bleeding,” Shouto said simply, and Izuku blinked once more in surprise. Now that he mentioned it, Izuku could feel the blood trickling down his right temple and down his cheek. He raised a hand to wipe the blood away, but Shouto slapped his hand.
“Don’t wipe an open wound with a dirty hand,” Shouto chastised, and Izuku chuckled, raising the hand to instead scratch the back of his head.
“Ah, sorry, sorry,” Izuku replied. Out of their group, Shouto was the one with the most medical knowledge, having been assigned to Recovery Girl’s unit during the War, both as protection and for triage assistance. The dual-haired teen had taken a shine to healing, and had since been making sure that the rest of their friend group was taking care of their injuries and wounds properly. If it kept Izuku from the Infirmary, Izuku didn’t mind.
“Here,” Shouto said, gently grabbing Izuku underneath his arm. Izuku sighed, rolling his eyes a little.
“Shoto, I’m fine, really,” Izuku said, even as he let his friend coddle him a little. Shaking Shouto off when he was like this made the teen sad, and Izuku hated doing anything to make his friends sad.
“Come on,” Shouto said, gently pulling Izuku towards their school bags in the locker room. “Let’s grab our things and get you to Recovery Girl. Your cut’s a little too deep for basic first-aid”
“Yes, yes,” Izuku replied resignedly, following Shouto without putting up a fight. Shouto nodded, seemingly pleased with Izuku’s lack of resistance. A small smirk lined the edge’s of Shouto’s mouth.
“We can talk about you ogling Katsuki and Eijirou later.” Shouto teased, and Izuku nearly tripped again.
“Shouto!” Izuku wailed.
Shouto laughed.
0o0-0o0-0o0
Omake—The Infirmary
Chiyo sighed as she watched Midoriya and her part-time apprentice walk into the infirmary. Todoroki was leading Midoriya to a bed, and while the boy was complaining, he wasn’t actively preventing Todoroki from helping him. At least there was that.
“What happened this time?” Chiyo asked, and she watched Midoriya tense a little, the boy silent. She sighed to herself before turning to Todoroki, an eyebrow raised.
“Izuku banged his head on the doorframe of the locker room as he was turning to talk to me, cutting into his temple.” Todoroki reported back, and Chiyo hummed.
“Let me see.” Chiyo said, and Midoriya quietly turned his head to the side, allowing Chiyo to see the cut. The small wound had already begun clotting, and most likely would have been fine if given time. But Chiyo knew how loath 2-A was to see any more scars on Midoriya, even if the boy didn’t particularly care whether he had them or not.
“Your hand, dearie,” Chiyo requested, and watched with a pang of regret as the boy hesitated a moment before giving Chiyo his hand. Chiyo quickly kissed it, watching as the cut to the temple stitched itself up, resulting in no scarring. Todoroki let out a low, quiet hum, pleased with the result. Midoriya rolled his eyes a little as he took his hand back, curling it in his lap.
“How did this happen?” Chiyo asked, tossing a package of gummies to Midoriya as she grabbed her clipboard to record the incident for her records. Her eyebrows rose as an unusual smirk flitted across Todoroki’s face.
“We were coming from sparring in the gymnasium when Izuku walked into the doorframe because he was too busy watching Katsuki—”
Chiyo watched as Midoriya’s hand flew to Todoroki’s face, covering the other boy’s mouth and thus anything else Todoroki may have said. The green-haired student was blushing furiously. Todoroki didn’t continue to speak, but Chiyo could see the clear amusement lining his eyes.
Chiyo snorted, remembering years earlier when the exact same thing happened to a certain loud-mouthed staff member during his own Heroics Class.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen this happen,” Chiyo said, letting a smile cross her face. Both Midoriya and Todoroki looked at her, intrigued.
“Not the first…?” Midoriya quietly asked. Chiyo grinned.
“Aizawa used to practice aerials,” Chiyo began. “And one day, Yamada happened to be walking by…”