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“Mineta!”
Taking off his tiny, purple mask, Minoru Mineta stared upward with a small smile.
The happy acknowledgment from a certain pink teammate had made him feel strange, weirdly awake. So much so that the victorious raving of Bakugou and stunned stutters of Midoriya had been completely drowned out—the loud and proud sounds of 1-A’s boys not registering in the boy’s ears, somehow.
He remembered his stubby legs rushing and shouting ‘Look out!!’, as the plucky one’s grape shield stopped a speedy wheel with a dash of Twin Impact from hitting her. Mineta would be asking for a miracle to stop it himself, but the great Grape Buckler had saved them both from a ton of pain!
Mineta had to admit, that was pretty darn cool. But that couldn’t even compare to what he saw the moment he glanced up.
Mina Ashido, smiling at him.
For some reason, that simple gesture had been trapped in his head. For the rest of the match, after the classes reconvened, and it was still stuck now!
Despite getting an accidental cheekful of breasts that he didn’t want, for some strange reason…none of that feeling had stuck at all, even though she was a solid third on his 1A hottie list.
This is so unlike you, Grape Juice! Remember it, remember it, the softness, not her cute face!
Wait a minute. Had he just called her face...cute?
The usually pervy brain desperately tried to get back on track, scanning and searching a blurry trail to bring up any memory of that once-in-a-lifetime moment. A blurry trail indeed, and it all just lead back to her cute, pink face.
Her cute expression…that he’d caused.
Mineta couldn’t find the words, it was just…a cute face. Bright and adorable, round and perfect. Nothing like the word “cute” had ever come to his mind in his vocabulary of girls, and what did…well, Mineta wouldn’t elaborate for everyone else’s sake. Without a doubt, it left his mind running in loops.
Maybe it was the sparkle in her yellow eyes, or the way her expression dazzled him, or the high holler of his name—but it stirred a warm feeling deep inside him that was so foreign he couldn’t begin to understand.
I don’t get this.
Though…thinking about it had also filled his heart with happiness—like dashing in to help really had been worth something. Like this journey from a whim might mean something more, he had felt something so much different, and he almost wanted more.
Damn, that good-doing Midoriya had really been rubbing off on him the past few months, but Mineta was okay with that.
“Okay! Gotta get better, Minoru Mineta!” he declared to himself, punching a yellow glove up. But unfortunately for him, he’d made it known to the whole locker room. With a red face, he shrunk up with a pink face, trying to forget he had uttered such an embarrassing thing.
He felt the friendly pat of his partner-in-crime “Hohoo, that’s great to hear, Mineta!” Kaminari grinned at him as he took off his yellow glasses. But then his expression straightened out, as the rest of the class looked at the purple boy.
“What brought that on, though? You’ve been kinda quiet since your match ended.”
As expected of his best friend! Wow, he had really been an open book the whole time. Thoughts of that girl began to appear again, and the heat began to creep up.
“S-sorry…just thinking about stuff from before,” he answered with an embarrassed chuckle, before looking at his gloves again with an optimistic grin.
Kaminari hummed, quickly noticing the wild difference in him—seeing him look so light was almost unreal, and the words shy and quiet weren’t exactly words to describe Minoru Mineta. He gave his friend a grin. But...something told him that could be the start of positive steps.
Mineta really couldn’t make sense of any of this, no. Not the small beats of his pint-sized heart, or the weird heat spreading through, unlike any other. He felt himself missing seeing that kind expression now. Daresay, it felt more amazing than all his old schemes put together. Was he smitten or head over heels, or just stupid? Mineta didn’t know at all. But just earlier, when he had saved her…
Mina Ashido was smiling at him—genuine and chipper.
If there was any way for him to see it again, working just a little bit harder was a small price to pay.